Of Wizards and Wolves
by gothling14
Summary: Bruce, Tony, Clint, Natasha, Steve and Thor are outcasts at Hogwarts school, but you'd never seen a group as close. But what happens when a night in the forbidden forest sends ripples though the whole school, changing the group forever. A Bruce/Tony fic, with Clint/Natasha and a little bit of Steve/Thor, but not much.
1. Chapter 1

People thought the six of them to be very strange. They found them weird and different and… all round bizarre in the grand scheme of things. For this reason, yet not this reason alone, they were out casts. They were not to be associated with for longer than a few hours a week at very most unless you wished to join there little band; even then they had to accept you.

No one really knew when it had become the social norm to only befriend other members of your own house, yet the rest of the student body seemed to conform to it. The Gryffindor's went to hogs mead with the Gryffindor's. The Slytherin's asked Slytherin's out. The same applied for every possible social situation, for every house. Or, at least it did the majority of the time.

Maybe the hat had strategically made it that way. Sorting people into houses specifically so that they would only like others of their particular house. So that they'd work better as a unit in the house competitions. So they'd want the cup more. So they'd care about all those silly house points.

But if that was in fact the case, then the hat had gone horribly wrong with these six.

Natasha Romanov had been the first girl to be placed in Slytherin out of her year group way back in first year. She was sly, sneaky, manipulative and the house loved her. She was exceptional at the execution of almost all spells, but particularly defense against the dark arts and was the current seeker on the quidditch team. Something laid down to her extraordinary talent on a broom. Her fighting skills were also exceedingly skilled, and she possessed a black belt in four different forms of martial arts, though the teachers knew little of this. Other than that though, she was a fairly average student. Her grades normal, her herbology work and papers expectable, no more.

Clint Barton though, had a particular talent for charming objects above all else. From enchanting pens to take down his notes for him, to floating text books just to annoy his friends, he had it down. He was always present for his lessons in charms without fail, yet his attendance remained spotty in all other topics. Though try as the teachers might, he would never be found when skipping out on class. It was impossible. He knew Hogwarts secret passages better than Dumbledore himself, and he was only in his fifth year at the school; one below the others. Clint knew well though, that it was stupid to even attempt walk to passages unprotected. What with all the beasties and monsters running about in them, and that big ass snake only he seemed to know about. But not being great with his wand, he could always be seen with his enchanted bow. Clint was a Hufflepuff.

Steve Rogers had been placed in Gryffindor before the hat had even grazed his head, to absolutely no one's surprise. It was almost as though the very essence of good poured from that guy's whole body at a never ending rate, even if his frame was small. His homework was always in on time, with clear effort shown over every sentence. He was present for every class, showing up at least five minutes early. He persistently came with the right equipment, and with spares for anyone who had forgotten there's. In theory he should have been the perfect student. The only trouble was he wasn't the smartest wizard on the platform 9 3/4. But his bravery, well that out shone all of his down falls.

Steve and Thor could be considered similar in a hell of a lot of ways. Thor was a do gooder as well, though not to the same extent. He was placed in Gryffindor house with little to no difficulty from the hat. Plus, he also found class difficult and had a lot of trouble with subjects like magical history and potions, which made Professor Snape take a disliking to him. He was in fact one of the lowest in the year on his grades, but he had his strong points. He was brave, really brave. More so than most of the school, and even a lot of the professors. His spells? God did they ever pack a punch. His lighting spell in particular, Gods it was sensational. And try as everyone else might, no one else could pull it off without at the very least catching fire. His loyalty as well, was one of the strongest forces on earth.

He was startlingly different to that brilliant, shy, awkward teen Bruce Banner who'd been sorted into Ravenclaw. He was top of his year in almost every core subject at Hogwarts, flying through the classes with boredom and ease. His extract curricular work as well always stood out from the others, even in years above. Before last year he'd spent every single one of his nights drowned in books in the library, and all of his days studying unbelievably hard in class. He'd avoided the other pupils like the plague, as he knew full well how cruel they could be, to the slightly bulky, floppy haired, awkward Bruce. So he'd stayed on his own. He'd stayed in his books. But he was not without his rebellious streak. Many times over the years he'd snuck into the forbidden forest under the cover of nightfall; justifying it to himself that he was just looking for ingredients for potions class. In reality though, he just loved the thrill. Luckily he no longer needed to risk his life for that particular rush though. That came with being best friends with Tony Stark.

Howard Stark had been the Ravenclaw wonder boy way back when. Top of the year. Head boy. Going on to become one of the biggest names in all of magical history.

So no one was shocked when Tony proved to be just the genius his farther had planned him to be. He cast his first intentional spell aged five, his first potion age eight. In fact the only kid ahead of him in school was Bruce, but Tony was fine with that even if he didn't always act it. Unlike his dear old dad, Tony was a Slytherin, after a slight argument with the sorting hat that was. But Tony lived up to the house standards in every way. He misbehaved, smuggled in booze, had parties in his room as often as possible, consistently late homework. Tony was the typical bad boy, with a completely secrete heart of gold. Couldn't let anyone know about that though could he. Would destroy his image.

On their own, they were strange. Natasha was cold; Clint misbehaved; Steve, too good to be true; Thor spoke like he lived in a Shakespearian text book; Bruce, awkward and Tony was just too cocky to believe. But together they make simply no sense. Yet they were always together.

In class, they would pare up with each other over the others without a seconds hesitation whenever possible. After school they'd all group together in Tony's room, or head down to hogs mead. House events they'd cheer for each other instead of their own house mates. They were inseparable, and to everyone other than themselves, they were freaks.

The only time when they accepted not being able to glue themselves to another of the groups sides was in the lunch hall, where weather they liked it or not, the tables were set into houses. But still they found a way around it. They'd all sit at the very back of their house tables, closest to the door, and from there they couldn't be stopped.

Tasha and Tony would sit beside each other at the Slytherin table. Tony laughing and Tasha making sardonic comments, as they threw hundreds of enchanted notes over to Bruce and Clint who sat alone at their own house tables.

Clint being the most independent from the group, seeing as he was in the year below the others, didn't mind so much the separation. He was good at being alone, and found he could form a conversation with practically anyone. But still he laughed at the notes and shot many back attached to his arrows. Most often with pervy comments for Tasha.

Bruce however, who couldn't communicated successfully with anyone but his group of friends treasured these notes like gold. He'd always smile at the funny little comments Tony would send him, or the stupid little pictures. He'd shoot one back occasionally, but often by the time he'd thought of a reply, Tony would already have sent another six messages across, all that made his smile. He didn't mind not being able to reply though, especially since he'd found a couple of months ago he was completely, irreversibly in love with Tony Stark. So he'd just save to messages to glue into his diary later on for safe keeping.

Steve and Thor always had plenty to talk about at their table. Be it there latest victory over a bully or a success in class, together the two would not shut up. But though all there talking they always kept an eye out for the rest of their group. Keeping check that nothing started to get to out of hand, as it often did when Tony and Tasha were concerned. But most of all insuring all of their friends were safe. As Tony often liked to call them, they were the great protectors of the group. Watching out for all under their wings.

It was the sort of thing that just wasn't done, for whatever reason. People didn't like people from other houses. Gryffindor and Slytherin particularly hating each other.

Yet if you tried to stop them, then you really were an idiot. They might have been outcasts. And alone they might have had weaknesses. But question them as a group and you were asking for anything you got as far as a lot of people were concerned. Together they were strong. They protected each other. They were united.

Tony kept insisting they needed a gang name.

Bruce loved being a part of that.

His memory of the beginnings to his acceptance into the group was perfect. Faultless. As well as documented in excruciating detail in his diary. He never ever wanted to forget that perfect day in potions class, that day that was destined to change his whole life forever.

It had been the very first class of the new year, and as was usual of Bruce, he sat dreading the pending potions partner decisions. It was possible the most torturous thing the the fifteen year old boy had been forced to experience. And though he'd already gone through it four times prior to now, his angst over the situation did not decrease.

He'd always been used to watching as within the first twenty seconds any tight groups had split themselves into twos, and then watched as the rest were left to argue amongst themselves. He watched each and every Ravenclaw mull over in their heads what was more important to them, finding a friend and social enjoyment, or choosing to sacrifice any sort of topical conversation for the year in favor of grades. The first pupil to choose grades would inform Bruce that he was their partner and that would be that.

No one ran to pair with him as he saw many of the other teens do over the years. There was never a fight over who would go with him or anything like that. He just got to watch as the other debating Ravenclaws saw he was taken and shrugged as they found a real friend to pair with instead. It always hurt to watch. It always stung.

But that year was different.

"Hi, I'm Tony Stark. You almost indefinitely know who I am so let's skip the introductions and jump straight to me telling you what a pleasure it will be to not be working with a complete idiot this year. Not that Steve's an idiot, it's just he can't tell Wolfs Bain from, well, a wolf."

Bruce had nearly fallen over backwards as the eccentric Slytherin had popped up beside him and firmly shook his hand. The words had tumbled out of what Bruce saw as an all too sexy mouth at such speed, that it was a few moments before he even realized what was happening.

"Hi… thanks," Bruce said lamely, trying desperately to think of some possible way to reply. But it was as if Tony had just ripped his way straight into his mind, obliterating all intelligent thought as he went. "I'm Bruce Ba-"

"Please, of course I know who you are. You are quite literally the smartest kid in this whole school, which I'll admit isn't that hard, but still impressive enough to get on my radar my friend. In fact you're so smart; you're giving me a bad name. What would my dear old daddy say, if he was still around to give a shit that is?"

The manic grin that consumed not only Tony's face, but his entire body, unsettled and invited Bruce all at the same time. On the one hand he was talking as casually about his dead farther as though it were nothing but the weather, but at the same time it was just so… friendly.

Normally when people smiled at him it was with malison or snide. It was because he was the punch line to a joke, or he'd made a fool of himself in a way that only the pettiest of minds would seek amusement in. Anyway, never before had someone asking potions partnership of him smiled towards him, except maybe if being his partner had benefitted them in some way.

Plus there was the fact that Tony just seemed to be oozing confidence from every inch of his body, yet Bruce saw more. He could see the dazzling face Tony had on for the masses, but he could see past it as well. Something he doubted many people did with Tony. No one had watched people like Bruce. No one read people like Bruce could.

He saw confidence, but beneath that he saw the slightest of insecurity. He didn't know what it could be about, but it was there. A twinge of fear in his eye that something was going to knock him down. And he saw longing. But for what? What could Tony Stark possibly be longing for that Bruce could provide.

An equal?

The point of it was though, Bruce could sense at least three emotions coming off Tony in that moment, and it intrigued him. It had him wondering exactly how a person could be feeling so much at once and how it would affect them. Could he keep it under control? Did he always act this way, or was there a disturbance in the life he usually led at the moment? Would he collapse beneath the sheer power of emotion?

As a people watcher, Bruce found a lot of people really were as simple minded as society made them out to be. They felt things one emotion at a time, and all else had to wait.

Tony wasn't like that. He'd known it when he'd first seen him, and it only became more clear as time went by that he never thought that way. Nor did his friends. Tasha, Clint, Thor, Steve. All of them had more going on in them then they'd ever let surface. Each had so much hidden from everyone around them. But none so much as Tony.

"So you want to what, be my potions partner?" Bruce asked cautiously looking the Slytherin over. As a house they weren't renowned for their acceptance of those that differed from them. And though Tony seemed to be in a class of his own, Bruce was still weary. He was muggle born to contrast Tony's pure blood after all.

"Yeah, it'll be a blast. Give us three months and I'll bet we'll invent liquid fame or something."

"You're serious?" Bruce asked again, still not being able to cope with someone wanting to pair with him.

"Yes!" Tony stated with exaggerated exasperation, his hand clasping Bruce on the shoulder. He shivered at the touch. "Us geniuses got to stick together right?"

That had been the start of the best year of Bruce's life as far as he saw it, and he wasn't going to let anyone question it. Potions had actually been fun. He'd had a solid circle of friends who actually talked to him. He'd even gotten drunk for the first few times, with Steve looking out for him of course.

Tony had been his closest friend in the team though, no matter how long he spent with them as a group. But it seemed they'd all pretty much pared up in two's. Thor and Steve where a duo not to be messed with. Tasha and Clint were always sneaking off together. So Bruce thought it only logical that he was allowed to like his potions bro a little more than the others. Plus add that to the fact he was head over heels for the guy, and you really couldn't blame him exactly.

It had been a whole year since that's potions class that had changed his world. So, as he sat at his place on the Ravenclaw dining table, Bruce smiled at that were his life had gone whilst dimly listened to the new student being sorted into their houses.

He was only half conscious of the roar of cheers form Gryffindor house as that famous Harry kid got inevitably sorted with them. He honestly didn't care all that much about the whole situation, so what if the special kid was in your house, hardly changed your life did it. He did smile however when he spotted Tony with a jam lightning bolt on his head.

"Hello all, I'm Harry Potter and I speak in a flawless British accent," Tony squeaked mockingly in a put on prepubescent voice. "And I don't want to be in Slytherin 'cause I'm a goody two shoes, and I'm so much better than all of you."

Tasha's eyes rolled as she tried to ignore the totally irrelevant idiotic face Tony pulled as he spoke.

"It not like you didn't beg not to be in Ravenclaw or anything right?" the wavy red headed girl drawled sarcastically as she mindlessly caught one of Clint's arrows from the sky.

"That is a totally different scenario princess."

That earned him a glare. She was not a princess.

"It's not that I have anything against the house that holds our very sexy friend," Tony smirked, winking at Bruce over the tables. He grinned in success as his floppy haired friends head dropped and a blush flooded his cheeks. "I just don't want people thinking I'm some carbon copy of my ass hole of a dad. I've already got the genius, stick me in Ravenclaw and people'd start calling me Howard." Tony pretended to shiver at the thought, but Tasha just ignored him.

"Come on Stark, you're way too bad to have ever wound up in Ravenclaw and you know it. Exactly how muck liquor you got for tonight?"

"Enough to get Thor begging for mercy."

Tasha let a rare smile graze her lips for half a second before it dropped. Amusement was not something that knew her well, and she was perfectly fine with that placement in life. People who consistently laughed at everything just tended to piss her off.

Grabbing a steak knife from the table she quickly sliced open the message from Clint before the arrow flew back to his quiver, replacing itself perfectly where it was taken from.

_Tonight will be better than Budapest_, the note read in Clint's classic extravagant ornate writing. Tash just groaned as she looked up to see Clint giving what he considered the eye, and what Tony considered long distance pervy touching of the creepiest manner. Though he wasn't really one to talk now was he. Well known lady's man of Hogwarts.

"You two have got to be fucking," Tony stated, tucking into the food even though the feast was yet to begin. "And if you're not, then I'm surprised Clint can shoot even enchanted arrows straight. What with his wrist being near pulverized."

"I will castrate you."

The hall was alive with the sounds of the buzzing students tucking into their meals of every food known to man and wizard alike. The ceiling beautiful as ever, the evening stars twinkling down above them, shining with a consistency little else in life held.

The teachers sat together watching over them all form the front as usual. Their eyes gliding over everyone, searching for pupils with potential; for pupils to watch out for.

"Oh good lord, here we go again," Professor McGonagall sighed as her eyes finally landed on the six at the back of the hall.

Such disloyalty and disinterest in one's own house, was a quality the Professor detested above all else. She was a Gryffindor and proud, and to see two students with the most potential she'd ever witnessed in her life cheering for Slytherin's seeker year in and year out disgraced her. The complete lack of interest in their own team's victories made her twitch.

"I assume you're referring to our more, disobedient students, in the back Professor," Snape groaned nasally.

"Why of course I am, can you believe the nerve of them. I don't think I've seen that Banner Boy so much as look at another Ravenclaw. Rogers and Odinson have no interest in our own house games. And have you seen the way Miss. Romanov and Mr. Barton behave around each other, in and outside of the class room." McGonagall's voice was shrill and snide as she looked at the hoodlums shooting arrows around in the back of the hall.

Snape looked at McGonagall with silent hatred. His eyes burning holes into her head as he tried to keep his calm exterior. He was only angered more when he caught the eye of that blasted Potter boy.

The Professor knew just as well as most of the other teachers about the feelings Snape had held toward one, Lilly Potter. That beautiful Gryffindor girl who'd stolen his Slytherin heart. Had he been in Gryffindor, maybe she would have chosen him over that brute James. Maybe she would have been safe.

As far as the potions teacher was concerned, the six of them were a shining example to the rest of the school.

"I guess it depends on your point of view," he replied flatty, avoiding all eye contact.

Some people really pissed off Severus Snape.

Tony, Tash, Bruce and Clint all continued to ignore the world around them as Dumbledore stood to make his speech at the end of the feast, preferring instead to ping Bertie Bots every flavor beans at each other. Well, Bruce and Tasha were mostly just watching the other two, even if they couldn't help throwing one or two.

Steve and Thor however were in fact paying attention. Steve mostly because if anything important was said, he had taken it upon himself to inform the others, who he knew weren't listening. Thor, out of respect to one of the greatest wizards of all time, though he couldn't help but get slightly distracted and spare a smile to his fellow wizards (and witch's) antics.

All of them heard though, as Dumbledore announced that the Forbidden Forest was, guess what, forbidden. But it was the extra note he made that some of the older students should also take heed of this, that made them smile, as he glared at Tony.

They were all finding it extremely hard not to laugh at this. Not though, because of Tony's mock innocent face he attempted to pull as he raised his hands in surrender. But rather that Tony was the only one of all of them who had actually been caught.

Bruce's giggles were the first to cease though, as the sight of Tony caught his eye again.

Tony, who's childish and carefree ways always made Bruce smile. One of those real, smitten smiles that you'd only ever give to one specific person. A smile that made something inside you flutter.

Bruce knew it was stupid and pointless, falling for Tony Stark of all people. For one, he was never the type for any kind of real, lasting relationship. One with big scary words like love and forever. Ones filled with promises and dangerous emotions. Bruce, in fairness, knew little of these sorts of relationship as well. The difference was where Bruce was sure he wanted to know more about them as soon as possible, Tony was still only interested in flings.

But that barely scratched the major point of Tony not being gay.

Not even Bi as far as Bruce knew. He never so much as seen his womanizing friend glace at another guy with interest, except in the jokey flirty way he did with all of the groups guys.

Bruce hardly noticed as the feast came to an end. He didn't even realize he was back in the Ravenclaw common room until an enchanted paper airplane crashed into his dazed head.

_Hey sexy,  
Come for Booze and shared stories of crapy summers,  
My room, midnight.  
Don't forget you're map.  
Sincerely the best Wizard the world has ever and will ever know__,  
__Tony Stark. _

Bruce's first reunion party. Sweet.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony Stark had his own private room in the Slytherin dormitory, something otherwise unheard of.

Generally, the houses own private areas of the castle were separated into fourteen shared rooms. The different years would be split up, as well as girls from boys. But other than that there were very few rooms other than the common room. People had to share rooms with others, and it had to be with people from their own houses.

But you see, Tony Stark really didn't like this rule. In fact he completely opposed it with every fiber of his being. For one, he really didn't get on at all well with others very often, not to mention there were only six people in the whole world he actually trusted enough to let near his stuff. And even then he had his secrets. Tony really hadn't wanted to share.

Which is where being a pure blood wizard and in Slytherin house came in real handy. They were defiantly a house of favorites. So combine the pure blood with the brains, and the fact Tony was the wealthiest wizard in the world thanks to the fortune his father had left behind and it hadn't taken much to persuade the house teachers to let him have one of the largest store rooms to himself. He even had complete permission to do as he liked with the room without question. Tony had enough money to buy Hogwarts, no one was gonna argue.

So he got his own private room.

He'd remodeled the whole thing to the Tony Stark style. It was modern, stylish and just that little bit dark. Speakers were fitted into every wall, hooked up to Tony's music base containing every rock song in known history, especially AC/DC. It had one large single bed pressed against one of the walls, which was his, and two smaller ones that you could literally pull out of the brick work.

There were also at least fifty charms on the place: soundproofing, alarms, heating, cloaking spells. No one on the outside could see in unless they were a better spell casted than Tony, with a bit of Bruce's work thrown in. Which not many people were.

The whole room stunk to high heaven of gone wrong potions experiments and dragon smoke. Also, though most would never have expect it of Tony, it was extremely clean. Well, aside from the massive stack of new books he had piled three feet high in the corner, yet to be sorted.

Tony sat cross legged in the middle of his bed, reading through a muggle advanced mathematics book. His hand was mindlessly running repeatedly over his pet miniature dragon Jarvis's head, as he waited for the others to arrive. Jarvis was curled into a tight ball at his side, a warm slightly sparky breath tickling at Tony's leg every so often.

Bruce was the first to arrive to the party as the clock hit eleven fifty, and Tony looked up from his book smirking away. The mildly ruffled wizard tripped on the step, as he fumbled through the secret passage way opening clutching his map tightly in his hand. His glasses touched with steam from the hot tunnels.

Seeing as Tony had been Fred and Georges leading supplier for all there mischievous needs from their first day at Hogwarts, they'd been more than willing to help Tony out when it came to sneaking about. It had taken the genius less than two weeks to figure out how to recreate his own marauders maps, and by the end of the month and the others had managed to create one for each of the group before giving the original back to the twins.

They came in useful a hell of a lot.

"Oh Bruce, you know you're not allowed into other houses dorms," Tony laughed in faked shock while Bruce whipped his glasses on his cloak.

"Tony, you have a pet dragon. Don't even joke about rules. You look stupid," Bruce shot back with a half grin. He watched as Jarvis tilted his head to the side and puffed out a blast of smoke at the mention of him.

"My baby loves my rule breaking, don't you honey," Tony smirked at his red and gold friend, but Jarvis just looked annoyed at the pet name. He even growled slightly, as though in a frump.

Bruce flung his cloak in the corner by the books, which just managed to catch his eye.

"Your dragons got attitude… what are all these?"

Bruce scanned over the covers of the books in confusion. Advanced A level maths. Core Physics PHD. Mechanics; the finer points. There must have been at least fifty books in the stack, all with similar covers on various muggle topics.

"Why have you got a stack of muggle text books? You gonna use them as a chair? I don't-"

"What? No," Tony said jumping to his feet and strutting over to Bruce. "Banner, how much do you know about polyjuice potion?"

"Everything. Why?"

"What about vampires? Merlin? Reading tea leaves?"

"All of it. From dates to locations. Why Tony?"

"What happens when you react two noble gases?" Tony's voice was hard and cool, like he was really annoyed at something, but not Bruce. He was reading annoyance, excitement and challenge off Tony right now, which was always a dangerous combination on the sixteen year old boy. It meant he was trying to prove something.

"I… don't know," Bruce said realizing he honestly had no idea what would happen. He wasn't even completely sure he understood the question.

"Nothing," Tony answered smugly. "What's the main message of 'Lord of the Flies'?"

"What's a lord of flies?"

"It's a book. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

"No, not really," Bruce said flatty still trying to figure out what the hell was happening. Tony had a tendency to go off on tangents, but usually Bruce had some idea what was going on when he did.

Tony was grinned and grabbed Bruce by the shoulders firmly; his eyes locking fast with Bruce's. "They aren't teaching us half the stuff we need to know," Tony said almost darkly. "We know everything we possibly could about magical creature mythology to advanced charms. But there is a whole world of stuff out there we don't know, because they don't teach it."

He was starting to puzzle it out, because after all though he wasn't quite a Sherlock, he wasn't a John. Bruce was a genius, he could figure stuff out easily.

"You talking about muggle stuff. We don't need to know that though Tony. It's pointless."

"Come on, that's not true. You just haven't looked. There science is more advanced than you'd believe. But, just imagine, if we could combine the two," Tony said his face almost splitting in half. "Magic and science. Charms backed with physics, or enhancing mechanics. Biology and chemistry behind potions. Think of it Bruce. All the stuff we're missing because people thing we don't need muggle science!"

And he did, his brain was over loading with ideas within the second. It could be revolutionary. It could change the wizarding world. If done right, it would be one of the greatest discoveries of all time, with Tony behind it.

"And I want you in on this," Tony stated firmly, gripping Bruce's shoulders even harder.

"Tony, I don't know any of this stuff. You should just-"

Tony cut him off waving his hand at what Bruce was trying to say. "Neither did I until like, a month ago. Really Bruce, what do you think I've been doing all holiday?"

"Partying?" Bruce guessed with a slight smile. Tony's eye roll told him that he'd gotten it right first try, though it wasn't a hard game to play with Tony concerned.

"Yeah, but that wasn't my main focus. If I'd really been partying the papers would have like, exploded or something."

He was right; the papers had been awfully quite on the topic of Tony Stark this summer. Even before Bruce had been properly introduced to the rich Playteen he'd known all about his antics from the papers. Hardly a day of summer would pass without at the very least one article on his various summer activities.

But that summer there had been what, four stories about Tony; only two had even managed to make the front page. It was so little publicity in comparison to the usual reams of scandals that flowed from the boy; it had gotten Bruce almost worried for his friend. He'd been wondering all summer what could have been keeping him so quite. Now it seemed he knew.

"Please, Bruce," Tony now begged, his eyes burning the usual number of three emotions. There was excitement, which was to be expected when Tony found himself a new project to obsess over. There was that look Bruce always associated with knowledge, yet Tony rarely got in class, but couldn't be removed if he was learning something new. Like when he was trying to create his own potion or had somehow gotten his hands on something from the forbidden section. And then there was that little bit of need. That smidge of something begging Bruce would join him on this project and the two of them could create something really great together. For some reason, Bruce had noticed a while ago, that Tony liked nothing more than working with someone who could keep up with him intellectually.

"You know it'll be fun. We gotta do this Bruce."

Faking to consider his options, even though Bruce had already decided he defiantly wanted a piece of this, he grinned inwardly at the torcher he was causing his ever impatient friend. Tony looked like he was about to pop.

"I suppose it could be a good idea."

Tony punched the air in triumph, smiling away. "This is gonna be beyond awesome."

But right before Tony launched himself into Bruce's arms, he was suddenly distracted by Tasha and Clint who'd come in through the passage not even pausing to say hello. Tash was wearing her usual expression of coldness and disinterest as she tossed her cloak over by Bruce's, then went straight for the stack of booze on Tony's desk. Taking a straight swig of vodka, not even flinching, she sat down on the bed.

Clint's expression was far more sunny however, seeing as he'd been behind his red headed Slytherin friend on the walk over. And being a man of opportunity; never failing to cease the moment, he had been appreciating that very spectacular, not to forget tight, view the whole way over. Dumping his arrows and bow in the slowly growing pile, he dropped down next to Tasha and poured himself a brandy.

"Man you two don't joke around. Straight at my hard liquor, sure. Plenty to go around. Just remember, when you're too drunk to see Clint, that when Tasha's done fucking you that you can still talk. I actually enjoy your few amusing comments. You're a great asset to the group."

"Do you think if I punched him hard enough I could brain damage the sass out?"

"Ok, now that hurt my feelings," Tony replied smoothly, pouring himself a brandy and tossing Bruce a beer. "And that sass is all just part of the Tony Stark package honey."

"Can we return it?" Bruce asked smiling slyly at Tony who gawked at his friend.

"No, I think after you get it drunk over fifty times there's a no refunds policy," Clint grinned.

Jarvis puffed out a stream of black smoke, and looked to be almost laughing at his owner.

"Can we not leave you four alone for five minutes without a war starting," Steve asked tiredly as he and Thor stepped through the opening. The time was now ten passed midnight. Thor and Steve thought it a miracle they'd managed to get passed the celebrations that were currently filling Gryffindor tower at all. Everyone was certainly very happy they'd scored 'the boy who'd lived' on the team.

"No," was Tony's instant response, soon followed by Bruce's sarcastic, "'cause when you're here our behavior's perfect."

"Friends!" Thor suddenly boomed pushing his way to the center of the group, his hands above his head. "Let up not make playful jest at each other this night. For I am sure all of us bare glorious tales of our time apart that we wish to share over liquor and laughter. Am I not right my brothers?"

Tasha scowled.

"And sister."

He certainly wasn't wrong, and within the next ten minutes or so the six had settled down into a circle on the floor, with Tony next to Bruce, and then began their stories. It had been a tradition in the group since way back in their second year, except back then neither Bruce nor Clint had been present seeing as they'd joined the team later on. This was in fact Bruce's first reunion party and he couldn't wait to hear what everyone had been up to while they were away. Since all of them had such different lives outside Hogwarts, no two summers where ever the same.

Tony laughed and boasted about how much fun he'd had seeing as he'd had the Stark mansion to himself all summer, so he'd quite literally had no rules to conform to. His legal guardian, Uncle Stane, had been away of company business for the entirety of the holiday, so Tony had been free to do as he wished. Bruce noted that little twinge in Tony's eye though, that always came up when he mentioned anything to do with the fact his parents weren't around. He didn't mention it though, because Tony always denied being even remotely sad or remorseful about their death, no matter what you said to him. So he just let Tony rave about the hordes of girls that drooled on his arm.

Steve had told them all about his family holiday up to the beach in Spain, with just him and his parents for three weeks. He told them all about how his mum had gotten annoyed when he and his dad's sand castle wasn't falling down 'cause they'd used magic to keep the sand packed together. She'd been saying they had an unfair advantage, so they'd done it again without magic, and that time his mums had been way better than the mushy sand puddle they'd come up with. Then he told them all about his mum's homemade apple pie, which they'd all eaten together as they watched the sunset on the patio one night.

In the first week of Thor's holiday his dad had taken him out dragon riding all the way in Russia. They had a special place where they trained a few of the dragons to be rideable, even though they still weren't very safe to be around unless you were strapped out of reach from there claws and teeth. Thor had only been allowed to ride the younger ones because he wasn't old enough to go on the adults quite yet, but he had gotten to see his dad ride a fully grown Hungarian Horntail. He also told them about when he and his ten year old brother Loki went out to London for a day to do muggle stuff. They'd gone to the science museum at one point, and Loki had somehow managed to trick one of the guards that they'd gotten lost from one of the very expensive tours. All it had taken was a couple of tears and Loki had gotten him and Thor in for free.

Tasha had spent her summer traveling the world with her Uncle Fury seeing as her parents, like Tony's, were dead. She told them all about the thirteen different countries they'd gone to and the crazy stuff that kept happening on the way, though see still kept it all very vague. Apparently they'd nearly been arrested at least twice, though she didn't share exactly why or how they'd escaped. No one questioned it though. It was Tasha; it was probably true. She did talk about the shooting range she'd got to have a go at in Germany though; even smiling just so very slightly at the memory. Which of course then made Clint smile five times the size of that.

Clint's stories were by far the most strange and interesting though, seeing as he'd gone traveling in the Wizarding circus with his brother Barney all holiday. His parents were also in the category of deceased, so his brother was the only family he had left. Clint's stories though interesting, always seemed to be about Clint himself partaking in some act of bravery or skill it seemed, and rarely on anything else. He told them about the time one of the expensive exotic birds for the show had escaped its cage, and Clint had managed to single handedly bring it back by shooting a weighed arrow through a scarf tied to its foot. Or the time he'd saved the very attractive tightrope walker form death, when he'd caught her from a particularly high fall. Everyone figured that story was made up just to get Tasha jealous though, which in itself was a far more daring feet than any of Clint's actual tales.

Bruce was really nervous when it finally did come around to his turn. His stories wouldn't even come close to the excitement and extremes that the others all seemed to overflow with. His muggle parents hadn't taken him dragon riding or to magical circuses. They hadn't even gone on a normal family holiday. Money had never been an abundant thing in the Banner household, usually all of it disappearing as it refilled his father's drink. And unlike his friends, his dad was a helluva mean drunk, so those stories were out of the question. Not to mention the fact his parents were both a little bit scared of him. They didn't know what he could do and being people of science, the idea of magic was more than a bit overwhelming. So he hadn't really done much over his holiday aside from study and dream of coming back Hogwarts.

He did have one story of accidental magic though. One of the days when he was down at the park listening to music and writing out advanced potions from memory, some idiot kid had started shouting abuse from across the field about Bruce's second hand clothes. Completely not on purpose, he might have accidentally made all the guys hair fall out. He honestly hadn't meant to do it, but everyone was drunk and tired enough by this point that the story was the most hilarious of the night. Tasha even giggled.

After that everyone had finally started to notice that the clock had made it all the way to four thirty in the morning, and it became abundantly clear they needed to go to sleep as soon as possible. If there insane hangovers didn't knock them out in class tomorrow, there was still a good chance they'd collapse of exhaustion from the total lack of sleep. Which could not happen, seeing as Bruce and Tony both had potions with Professor Snape third lesson.

So Steve got up, routinely offered his bed to Thor, who as usual declined, and pulled the bed from the wall. Rogers had a habit of sleeping on his side; his back to the wall and facing the group, as well as very lightly. Should anything pose a threat to him or his friends, he'd be up and ready to face it, as was usual.

Thor slept fully dressed, his huge muscular body sprawled across the floor, and Steve told himself nightly that he was not upsets that the body was always covered. It was a deep almost impenetrable sleep that Thor constantly found himself in, which had caused a theory to be spread among his friends that he could fall asleep in an earth quake with no difficulty at all.

Clint and Tasha took the other bed as normal, both upright, leaning against the wall. It looked like the most uncomfortable position humanly possible to sleep in, but for some reason that's just how they slept. Bruce was just thankful Clint's eyes were at least closed this time. They drifted off quickly, Clint snuggling up to Tash.

Now normally Bruce would have slept curled up into a tight little ball at the end of Tasha and Clint's bed, with Jarvis curled up on Tony's. But for some unknown reason, tonight was going to be different.

"You're sleeping with me," Tony informed Bruce as he pulled him over to his bed by the hand. Throwing off his shoes, Tony was instantly trying to push Bruce down before he could even respond.

"You don't mean that," Bruce said, with a slight blush. He was trying halfheartedly to stop Tony from pushing him down, but seeing as Bruce really wanted to sleep there, it wasn't much of a fight.

"Well, I said I wanted you to sleep there. And I'm assuming, I wasn't lying. Also I'm still trying to push you under the covers. So… take off your shoes."

Tony was already bare foot and shirtless and was now in the bed, trying to pull Bruce in too. If he hadn't been so phenomenally drunk and tired, it wouldn't have even been hard, but he was. So he wasn't having the most success.

"Tony, this is just the alcohol talking," Bruce tried, through his shoes were now off his feet.

"So what if it is? Get in my bed."

Bruce's heart sank slightly. He wasn't sure what he'd wanted Tony to say, but that hadn't been it. Maybe he wanted him to confess his love, to say that he wanted Bruce desperately and always had. But that was not going to happen. Tony equaled very, very straight. Still it kinda sucked to think Tony had to be very drunk to even want him just to sleep in the same bed as him.

"Fine, but if you regret this in the morning it's not my fault," Bruce sighed getting under the covers.

His heart sped up as Tony curled into Bruce's side, his head falling clumsily on his still covered shoulder.

"Not gonna regret it. Now stop questioning things. Stuffs so much better when not questioned," Tony mumbled against Bruce's collar bone through his shirt. Bruce shivered under the warm breath. "You're comfy."

"What?"

"No questioning."


	3. Chapter 3

Morning came a lot sooner than either one of them wanted. Had they had any say in the matter, morning wouldn't exist at all, just forever lasting perfect sleepy bliss. They'd both slept peacefully, warmly, safely. It had been the best nights sleep either Tony or Bruce had since the end of term, even if it had only lasted for a couple of hours.

But when morning finally came, Bruce didn't wake up as pleasantly as Tony had, about an hour before him and the rest of the team. Instead of waking next to a sexy and rumpled partner who looked so trouble free it was near heart breaking, like Tony had. Bruce woke to a fully awake teen billionaire storming back into his full bedroom with armfuls of food.

"Peasants, your God has arrived. And he brought breakfast. I expect your gifts by Wednesday, so get up and eat," Tony declared as the rest of them shot daggers his way.

Tony was a God alright. The God of rude and abrupt awakenings that left you grouchy for the whole day. Really, no one could do it as well as Tony.

It wasn't unusual for Tony to wake up first and do a food run. In fact it was extremely common place. Though when he wanted to, Tony could lie in for England, tended to get the least sleep in the group. If it was possible for him to be up and doing something he would be. It was almost like he considered sleeping to be no more than a waste of time he could spend on something more fun.

The difference this time though was that Bruce really would have preferred if Tony hadn't chosen to leave. To stay in bed with him. For just a little while more. A few more minutes of bliss. But getting food had been more important.

Even waking him up to come to would have been a better alternative, but Bruce stayed silent. He'd gotten to sleep in the same bed as Tony, and he felt selfish for wanting even a little more. But it still stung that Tony seemed to be ignoring it had happened at all.

"Stark, Did you get-"

"Yes Thor, I got pop tarts. Yes everyone else, I got coffee. Now lets eat."

Thor rubbed the back of his hands over his eyes like a giant puppy, and Steve tried fruitlessly to look the other way. Tasha and Clint spotted though, as always. And as always, when Clint tried to mention it, Tash elbowed him in the ribs. A gesture that always made the archer smile.

When Tony had finally gotten everyone into awake sitting positions and got the food round, he did sit next to Bruce on the floor. It still wasn't the same though. It seemed like Bruce was always wanting more from Tony, when what he got was already amazing as far as he could see.

Tony liked him more than anyone. But not in the way Bruce wanted him to. At least, that's what he thought.

Though when Tony leaned over and whispered 'sorry, didn't want to wake you' and rested his leg slightly against Bruce's as the other's talked, he couldn't help but wonder.

xxx

Bruce had always found the potions class to be beautiful yet completely terrifying in equal ways. The towering stacks of books that loamed far over his head made him tingle pleasantly with the sheer volume of knowledge they were able to contain. The power they held with nothing but printed words.

The pungent, often sickly sweet, aroma that filled the air was another endearing quality of the place. It hung heavily over each and every student like a blanket of magic and hexes, containing the scents of at the very least sixty different potions ingredients. It clung to the walls of the room like paint, and though a lot of the students had taken a disliking to it, Bruce and Tony near worshiped it. The smell of magic, intoxicating.

The room was also known to be frightful however, with its ire darkness and dusty style. The tall towering grey walls seemed to close in on you like a steel cage, keeping you trapped and isolated within. It was a very claustrophobic feeling, especially when the huge wooden doors were bolted shut each lesson.

It always had set Bruce a little on edge. He didn't like feeling trapped. It had been a lot worse before he'd had Tony as a partner to distract him, but even now when he was hung over, tired and sat right next to his best friend, he was still a little edgy.

"Hey look, they didn't upgrade greasy Dracula to the Snape 5000, with full defense against the dark arts capabilities," Tony joked, motioning toward Professor Snape who sat cold faced at the front of the class. It was a well-known fact that Snape wanted the defense against the dark arts job but for an unknown reason, he'd never gotten the position.

"I don't know why he'd want the job so badly," Bruce commented pulling out his books and quills. "It's defense against the dark arts. Every lesson would just be us hitting him with spells like a human dart bored."

"Banner," Tony grinned in shock. "You out do my intelligence and know you aim to challenge my wit?" Tony's head tilted slightly; his eyes practically devouring Bruce as they ran across him, though Bruce somehow didn't notice. "Suits you."

"Thanks," Bruce murmured, smiling sheepishly at the compliment and trying not to gain any false hope from it. It was all just fun and games with Tony, right? So he just shifted a little awkwardly in his seat and tried to focus on Snape, though a slight blush could not be hidden.

"Good morning class. I'm expecting an equally disappointing year from you as last, so my hopes aren't very high. Just try not to waste too many of my supplies on your failures," Snape drawled nasally, looking hardly surprised at the noise that followed his words. "Alright, settle down before I start deducting house points."

Tony, who miraculously was near hangover free despite his large alcohol consumption, rolled his eyes. Bruce figured it was a combination of just being used to the alcohol and being full of coffee, that prevented Tony even getting touched by the headache the rest of them had.

Flicking open his work book, Tony tore out a page of worn parchment and dropped it on the table between him and Bruce. Quickly dipping his quill, he labeled the paper 'notes' and wrote down a message.

'Why the hell do all these idiots care so much about house points?' Tony jotted, not so much as glancing towards Bruce as he slid the paper across the well-used desk.

Note passing was a very important skill within this friendship group, something Bruce had learned very early on, and been forced to pick up quickly. Especially in classes with Tony.

See there was a lot more to the delicate art than most ever thought. You couldn't just simply write the notes to each other, because that was easy to spot. Any teacher worth his wand could catch out note passing in any class. So you had to make sure you'd be looking forward as you wrote you replies, or else anyone could see what you were doing. But even then the more astute teachers would even see though this, so not only did you have to write without looking, but you also had to appear to be focusing deeply on the lesson at the same time.

So plastering a faked yet accurate look of total concentration onto his face, Bruce reached for the paper. One glace down and he'd read the message. Dipping his quill he replied, 'don't know, guess they feel like they're doing it as a family sort of thing.'

He'd halfway passed the note back when his attention was taken completely away from the paper conversation that was beginning with Tony. House points and family's left his mind quicker that celeb gossip flickered through muggles minds. His eyes locked fast onto the potion Snape had written up on the bored.

The Violet Sleeping Potion.

A simple enough potion, not to mention being very useful in a lot of situation when done right. Tony and him had made quite a few batches of the stuff over the years because it could knock out a target for at least three hours with no chance of waking. A perfect concoction for knocking out dorm mates in order to sneak out each night, with no lasting side effects.

He knew the ingredients off by heart. Heck, he knew what the spell book said word for word. Which is why Snape's instructions made him frown.

He's listed: violets, cannery feathers, sand, a lot of silver veil nectar and standard earth root. The thing was Bruce knew for a fact that you needed blackthorn earth root or else it was hardly strong enough to make a person drowsy, not exactly a worthy potion for a class of sixth years.

Neither of them listened as Snape droned on about proper potions preparation, as they knew how to make a simple violet sleeping potion from year two, eyes shut. Instead their minds had both drifted to very different places, though their faces did not give it away.

Bruce's mind had made in a thousand miles away with in the minute, and he only just glanced at Tony's response of, 'maybe our family should have a points system then,' before quickly scratching down an urgent question.

'Can you get any blackthorn earth root for tomorrow's potions class?'

Tony looked down at the reply and felt an unseen pang at the lack of interest in his note. He hid it well though as he responded, though his eyes did flicker to Bruce for a second.

'Sorry man, can't this early in the year. My sources are all busy right now.'

Bruce sighed as he read the answer, completely missing Tony basically waiting for him to really notice his earlier note and react correctly. Potions class was boring enough when they weren't doing their own experiments, but without the blackthorn, the product would be useless as well.

They couldn't even ask Snape, seeing as this chose of ingredients was likely strategic. Who wanted teens with heavy sleeping potions running around.

That's when he thought of it. He got a tingling at the base of his spin, and a shiver rocked his shoulders. All the hairs on his oh so hairy back were standing to attention, and his stomach clenched in a not all bad way. The idea felt wrong, and yet he still clung to it. He knew it was stupid but still…

In seconds he'd made up his mind.

'Can't hang tonight. Gonna study.'

'Don't be a drag man, we could study together,' Tony wrote back with increasing annoyance. The note was up the page now. No reason for Bruce to see it. It was really getting on his nerves; he nearly drew arrows around it.

'Na, wanna get a head start on some Divination studies. You don't take it.'

'Yeah, well you can do that crap while I do real magic and see if Jarvis can set you on fire.'

The fact that Bruce didn't respond at all to the last comment told Tony the conversation was over, even if he wasn't happy about it. So sighing at his lost flirt, Tony went to the average comments about Snape's filthy hair.

Bruce hardly even focused on the jokes though. He was too busy trying to remember exactly where in the forbidden forest he'd found the blackthorn last time he'd been in alone.

Xxx

At Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry sneaking out of dorms was supposed to be a near impossible thing. It was told to be one of the safest places on earth, which made that fact part of its reputation. The pupils were safe and well guarded at all times.

Getting into the forest was intended to be completely undoable. It should have been impossible, and most thought it was. No other students had even attempted it. But when you were not only a genius with a knack for hiding from people (which had been drilled into you from a young age), but also had a marauders map, well it was pretty freaking easy really.

Bruce knew his dorm mates certainly weren't going to miss him when he was gone. It was a miracle if they even knew they had someone else in their dorm at all. Bruce was a master of going completely unnoticed, and it had not let him down so far. So Bruce knew he wouldn't be caught sneaking out, or told on.

Twigs and crisp leave crunched beneath Bruce's perfectly shined black shoes as he made his was along the vague and twisty path that lead him deeper into the dark wood. The moons brightest light helping Bruce to see the way, combined with the brighter torchlight. The trees around him were dead and warped into the angry curves and twists they loomed in as he past beneath them, his torch causing them to glisten unpleasantly with cobwebs.

The air felt thick with heavy fog which condensed on Bruce's old crooked glasses more with each step. His vision impaired, but he dare not stop to wipe away the steam. The moist air smelt like rot and decay, of leaves, of excrement, of meat. The rancid aroma stuck in his nose and cased Bruce to gag loudly.

And he loved it.

Not in the way one loved a person, or an object. Not with affection or caring, as those were things that would die quickly in that pit of hell and fear. It was not the love of fairytales, unless you meant the rather dark originals.

It was pure, loath full, guilty pleasure. It was that sick, dirty kind of love. The kind you hid and told no one about because even you knew it should not exist. Not in you. Not in anyone. Not ever. It was love of the rush, of danger.

Bruce Banner had fallen in love with adrenalin, and the forbidden forest was his dealer.

Now he had tried to get off it, that couldn't be denied. He wasn't stupid. The very opposite in fact. He'd tried to stop. An effort which had been unsuccessful for a long time, bordering hopeless. Until Tony Stark dropped into his life and shook the whole world out of focus.

When Tony was around there could be enough adrenalin pumping to power a hunting tiger. It was exhilarating and extreme and generally not life threatening. A fact that might have shocked a lot of people, but being around Tony was almost always safe. Yes he was reckless, self-destructive and mostly a hazard. But he cared about his friends, he wanted to live. He was dangerous, but with just enough hidden precaution to keep him and his friend's safe.

Tony didn't like to see people he cared about getting hurt, weather he'd admit it or not. He didn't like pain at all.

So Tony had become his Nicorette patch. Tony was his way to ease off the drug. With Tony he could be safe, exhilarated and alive all at once.

But pretty soon it had shifted again.

Rather quickly, Tony became the drug, in a whole new way. Bruce's new addiction. Which he had no problem with seeing as Tony was a pretty great and in some ways better alternative, even if he was obsessed with him, it was ok.

He hadn't gone into the forest alone in almost a year. As far as Bruce knew he was cured of his life threatening needs. Until he got tempted.

If only Snape had picked a different potion.

The creeks and groans around him set his senses on alight as he weaved through the trees. The safety of the path now long behind him. His heart ponding in his ears. His eyes darting over the scene for threats.

It was only just a little way further until he reached the location of the root. Ten steps at best. Just past the rotted fallen trunk ahead and he'd have it. Just four more steps. Just a little further.

A crash sounded as he fell to the floor. Twigs snapping beneath him.

Cursing to himself, Bruce rolled over to see the guilty branch which had caught his ankle lying just a few feet behind him. A lone stick jutting out of the ground, looking smug even though it had snapped. Looking pleased and evil at its work.

Damp leave stuck in Bruce's matted hair as he frowned at something not right. The branch had snapped when he fell, but that was fine. Twigs snapped, normal. He'd scuffed his arm and his robe was a little dirty, fine. The dark shadow just a few meters away, not so fine.

Quickly Bruce scrambled along the ground to get behind the fallen log only just ahead, leaves and sticks crashing and cracking as he moved. The noise deafening in his ears.

His breath held, he lay motionless. His body ridged and mind tight as he listen to the monstrous sounds of the forest. Birds and unusual insects shouting around him. The fog swirling like ghosts. But nothing else. Nothing out of the ordinary for the mystical place.

Silence.

He could have imagined the looming shape. That tall hunched figure with sickly long arms. He could feel the adrenaline working within him at supersonic rate. It was completely possible it had caused a vivid hallucination. It was not uncommon for people to see things in the dark, especially in creepy haunted forests. It was probably nothing.

But the long growling snout that frothed and black dead eyes that greeted Bruce as he looked over the log told him otherwise. The sharp white blood stained fangs clamped down hard and fast.

About three centimeters from Bruce's arm.

Instantly his legs were ponding. Left right, left right. Approximate speed 9.7m/h. Average monster speed 40m/h. Injury to its leg, only logical solution for not being dead already. Distance out of forest, one mile. Quantity of good creatures in the forest with the power to fend off a monster per square mile, three. Chance of survival, 7%.

Bruce Banner was intelligent. It was the main factor in his life and always had been. Equations and facts. That is what would keep his mind off dyeing, so that is what Bruce Banner chose to think about in these possible last moments. Because it was a hell of a lot less scary than thinking about anything else.

Current location, five minutes run from the castle. Wolfs distance from Bruce, one point five meters and decreasing, fast. Possible obstacles, none, none, none, weak twisty tree.

His mind fixing on a plan, Bruce ran directly at the tree. His heart was pound in his cheats as he begged for success. Running directly forwards until…

Bruce jumped out of the way not a second before impact, not slowing at all. His feet kept pounding, but he just heard a crash over the fear blocking most of his senses. A millisecond of celebration before facts started to return.

Its recovery time, four seconds. New distance, four meters. Survival chance, 12%.

Four of Bruce's senses were now functionless as he ran, the only things he could focus on being sight and thought. His whole brain narrowed in on the most important things at hand and nothing else.

He couldn't even feel the branches ripping at his skin as he ran. Didn't notice the trails of blood mixing with sweat as they trickled down his arms. He couldn't feel anything.

Current monster distance, five meters. Running left, one minute. Distance, four meters. Time, fifty seconds. Distance two meters. Time, thirty seconds. Distance, one meter. Time, ten seconds. Distance…

Bruce began to limp as he hopped the last two meters into the secret passage entrance and the monster crashed head on into the forcefield.

With a yelp the beast turned and high tailed the other way, not glancing back. Blood dripping from its head as it fled. Bruce could see the injury on its back leg now and thanked anyone watching that it hadn't been at full health.

He was safe. He was alive. His back thumped lightly against the wall as Bruce fell against it laughing with relief. The joyous sounds pushing his chest up and down slowly. His eyes slid shut as he slid down to the floor, all fear draining from him. His senses coming back. One by one.

Sight.

Smell.

Sound.

Pain.

A horrible bone crunching agony was suddenly very noticeable and Bruce gasped as it ripped through his nerve system. It was blinding and stung. It was intense and Bruce's teeth chattered and his body shook as he lost thought again.

His leg was burning violently and a pool of hot red blood pooled beneath him, soaking his shoes and socks. He figured he must have cut it real badly for the level of blood running over his shoe. He needed to get it fixed up soon. Luckily a simple spell should do it.

But as he muttered the incantation and flicked his wand nothing changed. The pain was the same. The blood the same. The fear he felt though; that sky rocketed.

Ripping the trouser away, Bruce stared down in horror at the deep werewolf bite.


	4. Chapter 4

Everyone had noticed.

No word of a lie, every knowledgeable student above first year at Hogwarts school had noticed, which was truly saying something. The personal affairs of that tight nit group at the back of the dining hall were not things that spread the school in whispers and rumors. They were not the kids that gossip just flowed from like a river. They didn't spread stories or tell secrets. No one in the whole school gave a damn what happened between Tony, Steve, Thor, Tasha, Clint and Bruce aside from the fact that they were strange. And they liked it that way.

Yet somehow everyone had spotted that Bruce Banner was drifting away from them. Not responding to the notes passed at lunch, not the ones slid over in class, sitting alone in the library surrounded by books rather than rebelling with the rest. He was avoiding all of them. Drifting and not one student nor teacher in the school knew why, no matter how they tried to find out.

It wasn't only his friends he was losing his grip on though; his school work had taken a horrible turn for the worse. His homework was rarely handed in on time and even when it was, the quality and effort was near none existent. The smartest kid at school's grades were soaring downward and a lot of people were concerned.

Around four weeks into term everyone in the gang aside from Bruce pulled together for a long overdue meeting. Notes had been passed in secret; messages delivered with spells and soon they all gathered in Tony's privet spell hidden room. Each with their own concerns to report.

"So, everyone. You all get why we're meeting here right?" Steve asked, stepping up to his usual role as leader. But this time was a little different. This wasn't planning a trip to Hogsmead, or finals study sessions. He wasn't sorting out who got to be tutored by Tony and Bruce first or who should buy prank supplies. This was five people worried about their friend.

Thor, an open book as always had concern plastered all across his face like thick makeup. A blithering idiot could tell he was worried about something or another. He didn't even attempt to mask his emotions as he stood with his friends. Tall and proud.

"It's Banner, something is wrong. I don't understand why he avoids us so. It is as though he no longer likes us, yet I fear something darker is afoot," he answered to Steve, his muscular arms wrapped tight around himself. Almost protectively.

"Maybe he just needed some time off. The guy didn't have any friends until a year ago, maybe it was all just too much," Tasha commented coolly, ever the level headed one. Being a very private person herself, Tash rarely poked around in others business unless it was necessary. But that didn't mean she wasn't worried, just that she would show it until needed.

"I don't know, he's stuck pretty tight to us since we did pull him in. There is something up, I can see it," Clint stated pacing the room. He felt too low. Something was going down and he couldn't quite spot it, like it was just out of his field of vision. He wanted to get up high, to watch. He planned to hit the tunnels and check on (not spy on) Bruce as soon as possible.

"Tony?" Steve asked the unusually quiet wizard who was the only one sat down.

"It's all well and good playing sleepover and talking about our feelings, but what are we actually gonna do?" Tony demanded from his bed, lifting his head from his hand. "I mean this is Bruce. What do we even really know about him, huh? Tell me, what do you guys know?"

"Well um…"

"His parents are muggles," Steve suggested. "Maybe…"

"No, Bruce can deal with those dicks. It's something else," Tony mumbled racking his brains. What had happened recently? What were the clues?

"What do you mean those dicks?" Clint asked frowning. "What's up with Bruce's parents?"

Tony looked up fast and stared in disbelief at the four blank faces that stared back. All of them totally clueless.

"You four are honestly telling me you don't know, is there something wrong in your heads?" Tony asked getting to his feet. "Have any of you even asked Bruce about his family? Did you even think to…?"

"Stark, we are not your enemies. We all wish to help Bruce through what troubles him, what is it you know that we do not?" Thor asked surprisingly calmly. His voice wasn't even that loud.

"Not sure if I should be having a go in show and tell. If he didn't tell you… Though I don't know why he wouldn't tell you chuckle heads. I mean, we're like the least judgmental people of all time."

"When we were stuck here last Christmas you three high fived cause you all had dead parents," Steve deadpanned at Tony, Clint and Tasha. "Maybe he didn't think we'd be the most sympathetic to whatever he had to say."

"He told me," Tony snapped back, his defenses shooting sky high in an instant.

"You probably stuck you nose in like always."

"I asked, unlike you wonder boy!"

"Brothers!" Thor boomed over the two. "Enough. Let us not forget the really reason we've gathered here."

"Banner," Tasha said glaring at Tony and Steve who immediately backed down. Apologetic looks flashing slightly on their faces.

"Look, it's not his parents, 'k. I know that much."

"Then what is it? When did it start? It's hardly like him to close off completely, and it happened pretty quick," Clint said retracing the group's recent actions for the answer.

"Third day of term," Tony said surly, crossing his arms. "He was completely fine until then, we were passing notes in potions."

"Let me see the notes," Steve said firmly.

"I don't have them Gryffindor, Bruce always keeps them. He glues them in his diary or something."

"We could…"

"We are not stealing his diary Tash," Steve shot the red head down.

Clint smirked at her, and though the others didn't noticed, she kicked him hard in the shin. His smirk only grew much to Tasha's annoyance.

"It's a shame though. The contents of that conversation could be key to figuring out what's going on with him right now," Steve sighed.

"Oh God, please," Tony said in total bitch face. "I'm Tony Stark for God's sake. You really think I don't remember the conversation word for word. Super genius here, little offended."

The bitch faces that retuned to him though were most certainly a worthy retaliation. Though narcissism was part of the Tony package they'd all agreed to put up with, it did not mean they enjoyed it. Hell all these years and it was still tiring as hell.

"Just tell us what he said moron," Tasha groaned.

And he did. The whole conversation he repeated word for word, near enough. They didn't need to hear about Tony's little flirtation attempt. They didn't need to know what Tony sat awake and thought about at night. They didn't need to hear of failed conquests. If it has been successful it would be all they were hearing about, but for now it could be swept under the rug. For now.

"So you spent most of your time discussing the many annoyances of professor Snape and his hair. With such conversational conquest I am truly surprised that Banner has left our group for the written word," Thor grumbled sarcastically, to everyone's surprise.

"Was L'Oreal just sarcastic?" Clint said straight faced.

"The situation is clearly more severe than even we anticipated," Tash replied with the same expression.

"Now is not the time for your wit people, something is seriously wrong and…"

"Black thorn earth root," Tony said suddenly pushing his way across the room and diving for his shelves full of wizarding books. Throwing all the useless works between him and his target across the room, he dug. One of the books even hit Jarvis on the head and startled him awake with a jolt.

The others quickly worked to put out the small fire Jarvis had started in distress while Tony cheered in achievement. Flicking rapidly through the thick advanced herbology text book he'd just ripped from the stack, he began to mutter to himself. His eyes scanning each page at a breakneck speed few could master.

Jarvis snorted loudly at Tony causing his eyes to quickly dart to the miniature dragon. His eyes focused and muttering ceased.

"Black thorn earth root," Tony said as though in answer to a question, and Jarvis snorted loudly once again in reply. "Oh my God, duh! One sec."

"What just happened here," Steve asked as Tony finally slammed the book down on page three hundred and twenty nine.

"Got it, black thorn earth root. A well know potions ingredient, most commonly used in powerful sleeping potions and hex boosting. Blah blah blah first discovered. Blah blah properties. Blah blah, here! Found in thick forested areas with high magical atmospheres. Fuck," Tony cursed sharply, whipping the book across the room to crash against the wall.

"Tony what's wrong? What the hell's going on?" Tasha asked as Tony paced back and forth his hands running through his now normally neat but now shabby and ruffled hair. When Tony was stressed, everyone knew.

"Don't you get it?" Tony demanded harshly as he clenched his fist. Panic, worry and a hell of a lot of other emotions were running extremely high in him right then. Fear was a big one to. A hell of a lot of fear.

"Well, clearly we don't. So you're going to have to calm down and tell us. You hear me Stark. Clam down," Steve demanded taking charge again. Now was not the time to be losing heads.

"High magical atmospheres. Thick forest. He went into the forbidden forest. Alone. Stupid idiot Banner," Tony snapped but they could all tell he didn't mean it that way. When Tony was worried he insulted. It was his way of copping.

"But that's clearly a mission of suicide. There are all sorts of creature within that could have toyed with his mind to who knows what end."

"Or traumatized him. Things in there can really screw with your head," Tasha said her eyes darkening.

"You're telling me Bruce went into the forest alone, for potions ingredients? Tony don't be an fool, he's smarter than that. A lot smarter," Steve insisted, his head shacking as he denied the possibility. "Did he have the root the next lesson?"

"No, but that's when he closed off. I had to do the whole thing myself, not that I'm complaining but… that's when we lost him. Something happened in the forest, and I'm gonna find out what. I'm gonna make that son of a bitch pay for what he did."

"Do not go getting yourself harmed friend, it would do no good. We must focus on helping Bruce and that alone. Not die at the hands of petty revenge."

"Out of my way Thor, I'm not gonna go nearly kill myself. Not till I know what I'm against and how to make it scream," Tony snarled pushing past his friends and through the passage opening. His cloak billowing behind him as he stormed through the icy tunnels.

"If Stark gets himself killed I'm gonna…"

"What Rogers?" Clint asked grabbing his bow and heading to leave as well. "Yell as his corpse. I'm gonna go see what's happening and stop it going too far. With me Tash?"

"On it Barton."

The two of them left swiftly becoming deep within the tunnels within mere minutes. Untraceable by Thor or Steve, even with their maps and combined effort. Those two had their plan and Tony had his, but the two Gryffindor's stood clueless as to how they could help.

Did they stop Tony, or help him? Talk to Bruce, or let him deal with the issues himself? Research maybe?

Whatever they should do it would take more than a few hours thought. So they did the only thing they could. They returned to their rooms.

xxx

Slamming shut what must have been the fiftieth book he'd looked through at least in the last four weeks, Bruce's head fell into his paper cut hands. His pulse quickening as panic started to set in for what must have been the hundredth time.

He was only sixteen years old. Things like this weren't supposed to happen to kids. He was only a kid.

He was still a virgin. The closest thing he'd gotten to a serious relationship was with muggle girl Betty Ross three summers ago. They'd held hands and kissed a bit, but no more than that. Her dad had kept a close eye on the two of them for the whole relationship, leaving them barely five minutes alone. He'd gone further with his friends in heated drunken games of truth or dare.

He was still in school, studying hard for exams and tests. His digest worries had been grades and tests before now, and even they'd hardly concerned him. He was smart enough to pass any possible test no studying with ease. Nothing was life threatening or terrifying.

He still lived at home with his parents, for at least part of the year. He'd sit in his room doing homework and getting back to Hogwarts. Pretending he couldn't hear the drunken screams and shouts below. Pretending he was with Tony and his friends.

He was sixteen years old.

But what did any of that matter now. Now he was a monster. A werewolf. Three nights a month around the full moon he'd turn. He would stop being Bruce Banner, quiet teen with a nose for trouble, and become... savage. Demonic. Like that creature that had done this to him.

He'd seen it in the papers about a week ago now; 'escaped werewolf convict on the way to trial finally recaptured, to be sent to Azkaban within the week.' The thing that got him wouldn't get anyone else. Everyone was safe from it. It was going to Azkaban. Is that where they'd send him?

People weren't safe from him.

A cool sweat began to trickle down Bruce's arms as his body shook. This was his last night. Tomorrow night he'd change. He wouldn't be Bruce Banner anymore, and for six hours each night he'd be it. A monster.

What if he hurt someone? What if he killed someone? Where could he go to keep people safe?

Facts and figures couldn't help him here, because every fact just scared him more. Made it feel bigger. More consuming and real. He felt claustrophobic in his own skin. He felt trapped and dangerous and no one could know. Because then they'd fear him.

Like he feared himself.

He needed to calm down and fast, because people would start to notice him otherwise. Then they might find out. Then they might know. Then he might have to leave Hogwarts and everything he cared about. Everyone he cared about. Tony.

No more thoughts at all would calm him down. Or something mundane and pointless. Like cooking, or math. But he didn't know anything about those things.

He should. He and Tony were going to study muggle subjects. He and Tony were going to rule the world with their inventions. Now he should be hidden from the world. It should be kept away from him and him from it. To keep people safe. To keep Tony safe.

Hair.

He could think about hair. A safe topic. Simple and pointless and so dull you could fall asleep to it.

Bruce's hair felt thick. Thicker than usual as grease made it clump together in chunky curls. No longer course but slightly slimy and matted. Personal hygiene had been extremely low on his list as of late. It felt long; at least three inches, if not more. He needed it cut, fairly soon or it would become unruly.

His heart rate fell as the boring topic filled his mind, yet no good thing could ever last long.

"So you've been avoiding me like some sort of plague the last four weeks, which beyond sucks. Because this there's this whole thing were we're best friends and we do magic together, which rocks. And we rule the school and will one day rule the world, which really isn't going to work if you don't talk to me," Tony said in one long breath as he jumped onto the table to perch in front of Bruce.

The calm was instantly gone, as it always was with Tony. But right now he really needed calm. It was exactly what Bruce desperately required. Or he'd crack.

"Tony, I'm not… could you just not be here right now," Bruce begged trying to take deep breaths and focus on something dull. The main issue was everything about Tony screamed pay attention to me.

"Um, no. Not until you tell me exactly what the hell is going on Banner," Tony said, his voice suddenly a lot darker as he gave up quickly on quips. His attention span short as always. Plans dropping away whenever he liked. "I'm worried. Everyone's worried. So you're gonna tell me exactly what's wrong."

"Tony, get out!" Bruce shouted flying up from his seat, his chair falling to a crash behind him. The sound deafening in the otherwise silent library. And Tony got scared.

Not of Bruce. Never of Bruce, because Bruce was his best friend and the one person he trusted most in the whole universe. He couldn't be scared of Bruce because Tony knew, he knew, that Bruce would never hurt him. Not on purpose.

No, Tony Stark was scared of what could have possibly have happened to him. Tony was terrified that his friend was a lot more damaged than any of them thought. That something in the forest had really screwed with him to get quiet, mild mannered, ever polite Bruce this wound up.

But Bruce didn't know that.

Tony reeled back in shock and fear, and Bruce instantly assumed the worst. He'd just scared Tony. Tony was scared of him. Tony, the one person whose opinions of him he really cared about. He'd made Tony scared of him. He was a monster.

His heart stopped and fear filled a suddenly speechless Bruce and he shook on the spot.

"I…I-I'm…Oh…Tony-I."

He fled. Before he knew what he was doing, Bruce was out of the Library leaving behind a heart broken Tony being looked down on by Clint and Tasha. The three frozen at the scene listening to Bruce's shoes hit the ground in pats as he ran. Each's eyes glued to random spots. Minds racing. All worried about Bruce.

"Oh Stark, you and Banner break up," a lanky Slytherin ass hole known as Justin Hammer snorted from across the shelves.

"Screw you Hammer," was Tony only reply as he left the Library, but not before glancing down at the book Bruce had been reading.

'Monsters: Mythology and Fact.'

That night not a single member of that outcast, tight nit group from the back of the dining hall found it easy to sleep. Each lay awake. Each terrified of what was to come. What would become of them? All of them rightfully so.

Xxx

When Tasha showed up in Tony's room the next morning, he was more than a little surprised. Especially seeing as she just came in through the door instead of the secret passage way. Which was completely possible seeing as they were both Slytherin, just kind of strange.

In fact, now that Tony was thinking about it, why did Tasha come through the passage at all? Just walking to his room would be a lot quicker; it was clearly the logical chose. But his mind didn't linger long, as it instantly refocused.

"Something is seriously wrong here," Tash stated as she looked at Tony arms crossed over her body. Her face serious as always.

The rich teen genius had been up for hours, having only gotten an hour or so sleep. Which granted was only a few hours less than normal, but was still shocking. Tony needed his three hours. But there had just been too much playing on his mind to sleep. Or eat for that matter.

So he was now sat cross legged atop one of his desks, surrounded by empty coffee mugs and tall stacks of rumpled books. Seriously dark circles, far bigger than normal, darkened Tony's weary eyes and his hair was in complete disarray. And despite the summer heat, he was wrapped, as usual, in his shirt and jumper. Though his cloak and tie had been flung to the bed.

Jarvis was sat fast asleep beside Tony of the desk. His head resting gently on his owners knee as well as his wings being spread over the stacks.

"Yeah, I know I shouldn't let him on the furniture. But seeing as I'm up here I didn't want to seem like a hypocrite," Tony quipped, only looking up for a second before his head dropped back down to the book currently laying open in his lap.

Tasha sighed at the pointless comment and strode across the room to slam Tony's book shut. Now was not the time for his bullshit. Now was the time for making an actual working plan.

"Me and Clint saw what happened with you and Bruce," she said flatly, ignoring the look of annoyance plastered to Tony's face.

"Oh course you did," he sighed running his hand through his hair. "I'm serious, the Ministry really need to higher you two as spies or they don't know what they're doing."

"Tony!"

"Look, I know something's wrong!" Tony snapped getting to his feet. "What do you think I've been doing since four this morning? Because it defiantly wasn't homework. I've gone through every book I own on the forest. Twice!"

"And?"

Tony paused. His eyes went dull.

"There are at least sixty different scenarios that could be the cause of this. Mind altering plants. Brain washing beasts. Sights so horrific they can permanently traumatize you. And the kick is, not all of them are fixable."

With that Tony collapsed down onto his bed, his head falling easily into his hands. It was all too much. His best friend needed him and he couldn't find out how the hell to help. He had two clues to go on and sod all else.

"What the hell am I supposed to do Tasha? What can I possibly do to fix this?"

"I think for now, we've just gotta make sure that we're here if he needs us."

Sitting down next to Tony, Natasha let her walls drop a little to. It wasn't something she did often, and she'd never even consider doing it if more than one person was watching. But sometimes, just sometimes it was ok to be a little more venerable. As long as she was with someone she could trust it was ok.

"Not good enough," Tony said back firmly.

He was not gonna sit back and wait for Bruce to realize he needed him, because he already did. He just didn't exactly know it yet. Or wasn't admitting it if he was. So Tony had to fix this. Do something. Soon.

"Come into the forest with me."

"Tony," Tasha said pulling back. "That's stupid, if there's something in there that could do that to Bruce…"

"But it won't be like that. Bruce was alone. You me and Clint, we go in, we rip this asshole monster a new one and find out how to help Bruce."

"I think it's a stupid idea," Tash said coolly, but her eyes gave away that wasn't her final say. "But I'll do it. Barton will to. Steve and Thor won't though; they wouldn't let us either if they knew what was going on."

"Well it's a good thing I don't plan on telling them. We can't go tonight though," Tony said firmly setting up a plan in his mind. "We're not ready. We take one more night on research; then we head out. Plus we got to get some defense potions sorted."

"Sounds like a plan."


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Sorry for the short chapter. Also, because it's a cross-over fic I've played with the HP werewolf mythology a bit. Only a few changes, (can't say all, some are spoilers, lets just say it's a little Hulkish) the main change being like in Buffy werewolves change on the full moon and the day either side of it. So three wolfy days.

xxx

Bruce hadn't slept.

While somewhere else in the castle, Tony and Tasha had been discussing how to help Bruce, Bruce himself thought he was lost.

He'd lain awake, his eyes staring intensely at nothing in particular. His mind to wired to shut down for even a moment. He couldn't hear the heavy rain that had been pouring down outside, or the sound of one or his roommate's cat yowling loudly at the door. He hadn't registered a single thing since he'd lain down eight hours earlier.

Every few minutes or so he'd checked the old brown leather strapped watch fastened tightly round his wrist, counting down every second till midnight. Watching each moment tick by and wishing it would just go back.

Looking down he saw the rusted silvery hands indicate that it was only just passed six in the morning. Eighteen more hours. Only eighteen more hours he could be sure he was just Bruce Banner. Just Bruce.

Tony had been insisting since they'd first met that he needed a new watch. A proper watch he's said, classic smirk lighting up his face. One that would shine and cost obscene amounts of money. One that Tony had completely promised to buy at a seconds notice if need be, without a moment's hesitation.

Bruce would have accepted. A gift from Tony would be something to treasure; to hold precious and dear. But his watch was precious, just in a very different way. It wasn't a gift per say. More like a memory.

When his parents had been clearing out his grandfather's old house after the funeral, Bruce had seen it. Lying there, old and forgotten, among other possessions for the charity shop or more likely the tip. He saw it, and he had to have it. His own little memory, magical in the hands of a ten year old boy.

Looking down again, the arrows had only ticked over three minutes. Still hours to go.

He could figure out if he wanted time to slow down or speed up. He was terrified but the waiting was killing him. Weighing down on his shoulders like a strongman's dumbbell. He wanted it over.

But it was never going to be over.

He was a werewolf.

Figuring that staying in bed was doing him no good, he managed to pull himself up. Mindlessly he tugged on his robes, cleaned his teeth, laced his shoes. His feet trailed as he dragged himself to the library. It always opened early on the weekends.

Xxx

"So we're just gonna go into the forest, hope to stumble across what's been shaking Bruce's screws lose, kick it's ass, and somehow find out how to DIY Bruce back to normal."

"That pretty much the plan."

"Cool. I'm in," Clint confirmed easily, grabbing his bow. "When do we go?"

"Tomorrow night," Tasha answered looking up at what Clint referred to as the hawk's nest.

He'd only gotten the place set up a few months before the holidays had started, but it had quickly become his very own home away from circus. Anything was better than that God forsaken dorm. You couldn't get any height in the place at all. Another good thing about his nest was he couldn't get told off for it, seeing as there was no chance in hell any of the teachers would find him down this deep in the tunnels. Not even the rest of the gang beside him and Tash ventured this far in, which was a logical choice by all means. The tunnels were not a safe or easily navigated place. No one could stop those two though.

Clint had often offered to share the place with the red haired beauty, but she wouldn't cave that easily. Even if her dorm mates drove her mad, Clint drove her madder.

"Tony's getting as many protection spells as he can rounded up until then. You should make sure all your arrows are enchanted."

Dropping down to ground, Clint shot one quick smirk.

"Baby, I don't need enhancements to shoot straight and hard."

Rolling her eyes, Tasha turned and began to walk away.

"Not to forget quick. You always shoot quick."

xxx

Tony room stuck to the point where Jarvis had actually left to sleep in the tunnels rather than put up with the putrid, gut wrenching, stench. The thick smoke that filled every crevice made it hard to so much as sniff without gagging. And all vision was almost completely gone.

Tony had pretty much been working nonstop from the moment Tasha had left to find Clint. The last six hours had rolled by achingly slowly and exceedingly fast somehow all at once. His potions were taking forever to complete, yet when he checked the time, it felt as though Tasha had only just left.

He was terrified to say the least. His heart shifting from beating painfully slow, as though it had stopped all together, to worrying quick at random. As well as his haywire pulse, which was never good with Tony, his mind was flickering as well. Some moments he could hardly remember his very important name.

But he powered through. His mind set hard, if falteringly, on his goal. His hands moving as fast as they would go without his brain falling behind them. He had a mission.

"Exactly how screwed do you think we are Honey?" Tony asked Jarvis, flicking several ingredients of Dragonfly protection potion into his cauldron from memory.

Jarvis snorted sleepily from just outside the tunnel, his head sloppily poking just into view. His eyes were heavy with sleep and Tony envied his ability to completely ignore the situation at hand as though nothing were wrong.

"Ouch. You don't need fire to burn do you."

But even quips could not lift the growing weight Tony felt pushing him down. Faster and faster.

Xxx

When words stop making sense on a page, the library becomes the least enjoyable place in the world. The bone crushing silence and squiggles on the page do nothing but mock and taunt. The eyes of teachers and students alike accuse and detest.

Bruce honestly never thought he'd hate a library.

Five hours to go.

His unfocused eyes starred up at whatever roof or sky was ahead of him. His back numb against whatever floor beneath. His head pounding so hard he was positive he was going to die of fear.

Dyeing of fear. He supposed it was possible, yet it didn't seem like a very human thing to happen. Hamsters died of fear. Small rodents or creatures of great unimportance. When faced with challenges they'd just stop living. Give up.

Maybe that was for the best. Maybe curling up and stopping was the best choice. That way people would be safe, no matter how hamsterish is would make him. No one would get hurt. No one except him.

He finally realized it was raining.

xxx

Tony was 100% positive his wall was going to have at least fifty holes in it if Clint didn't stop firing his God forsaken arrows within the next twelve seconds, and it would have nothing to do with said arrows. In fact it wouldn't even have that much to do with Clint, but mostly Tony's oncoming explosion.

Thunk.

The sleek arrows brushed across the tip of Tony's ear as it embedded deep into the wall in front of him. Forget wands, Tony was going to punch him and set his bow alight. Maybe even cut off his hands so he could never fire another arrow ever again.

"Tish-tash-tosh, with the lovely tishy-toosh."

"How is he still alive?" Natasha asked passing Tony the stolen ingredients and taking a swig of Snape's fire whisky. "I was sure he'd be dead by now."

"You're timing suck, another second and he would have been."

"Why's your ear red?"

Clint seemed his usual self, as he always did. Impassive, occasionally flirty, sometimes there was sass. But most Clint was a wall of nothing. Neither a flicker of smile nor hint of frown would graze his face, no matter the circumstances.

Some would call it unhealthy. Some might think he was in desperate need of some emotional journey to help him learn to feel, or care or whatever.

The truth of it was though; Clint was perfectly fine with his mask of nothing, because that wasn't really what it was. It wasn't that he wasn't feeling. He was. Often a lot more than most on lookers with ever even begin to expect. Which was completely the point. Clint's emotions were his, and his alone; not for the prying eyes of any passerby.

Which was very true for right now.

"I don't see why he's here. He's not helping."

Clint was aching to the core.

Xxx

"Have you thought of anything?"

"No. My mind remains empty at this time. It's infuriating beyond I'd ever thought possible."

"Yeah, me neither."

Xxx

The zip scratched over material as he pulled his bag closed. Spare clothes, bandages, food, wand, all packed safely away to be hidden in a place easy to find yet as far away from himself as possible.

Organization was the last thing Bruce Banner found himself still capable of, and it felt familiar. It felt safe. Above all though, it was logical. Better to return the next morning with dressed wounds and clothed, than naked and bleeding to death. Dressed was most certainly better than nude. No matter how much Tony would protest.

Quietly, he heaved his bag over his shoulder and made his way out of his dorm. Careful not to wake his dorm mates with the sounds of the heavy chains packed deep in his bag.

Xxx

Thor sat alone in the Gryffindor common room, in front of a potions text book which was slowly gathering dust. It had remained untouched since he'd opened it an hour before and would remain untouched till morning. His tutors were otherwise occupied.

There was disorder in the wizard's life and he didn't like it. His classes were harder; his house mates were still overly excited by the Potter boy running around their dorm; even his hair was unruly. Things all around him were changing and he didn't like it.

He just wanted his friends to return to how they once were.

Xxx

Steve couldn't for the life of himself fall asleep, despite his many efforts.

He'd completed his night routine as usual. The same one he'd been following every night without fail since the first day of third year: clean teeth, use toilet, wash hands, wash face, change to nightwear, fifty push-ups and bed. Yet still he could not sleep.

He'd tried counting sheep, a useless exercise. How would finding out the exact quantity of sheep to jump a fence make you tiered he'd pondered.

He'd read for a while, but he'd found himself unable to focus on the words. All of it just blurring to gibberish before him.

He just couldn't sleep.

Xxx

Clint as usual, had ignored all school rules and was up in his nest. His dorm so unused by this point, he'd forgotten who his roommates even were meant to be. It wasn't like any of his stuff was there anyway.

So instead he sat, high above the ground, back against the wall, feet pulled up unevenly, staring mindlessly ahead. His eyes hovered over the perfect circle of arrows imbedded in the wall across from him, every single one exactly in line with the last.

His mind drifted to how accurate and easy his aiming was compared to his friends right now. They were not all in place. Their circle was broken.

Ripping an arrow from his bow he shot it mindlessly through the air in rage. Pulling back so roughly he nearly snapped the string. His eyes looking down as he shot.

It hit directly in the center of the circle.

He threw his bow at it.

Xxx

Natasha sat in the Slytherin common room, watching a racist blond boy preach about his farther to two beefy halfwits.

She didn't like his face; she did like Bruce's face, and when he smiled, but he hadn't smiled in too long; this blond idiot was smiling way too much.

She punched Draco Malfoy in the face, leaving the room as he cried.

It cheered her up.

But not much.

Xxx

Bruce was changing.

Crunching deep within tissue. Past boiling muscles and curling blood that pounded, everything was shifting. Moving. Grinding into something unpleasantly new. Fingers were being pulled out of shape like elastic. Creaking, moaning, sharpening, everything was retching anew. Changing. Unwantedly changing him into something other. Something not himself.

His throat scratched out a jagged growl. He was no longer a simple teenaged wizard boy.

Deep in the depths of the Slytherin dungeon, half awake and filled with caffeine, a different teenaged boy was working tirelessly over his cauldron. Books pile high all around his rigid form. Different secrets close to his chest. Out of nowhere, his body was racked with shivers.

It terrified Tony.


	6. Chapter 6

The cold leaves below him clung to his torn body as he pushed himself slowly up. There were broken sticks and wood chips tangled into his highly matted and blood tinged hair which he just knew would be hell to get out later on; a thought that quickly left his mind. Thinking about hair was trivial.

Lifting the thin gold chain with the key attached to it from around his neck, he was silently very thankful the thing hadn't come off during the night. He knew he couldn't have used it in his state, but losing it would have been awful. He's sure someone would have found him eventually. It was just that when that eventually was going to be that put him off. It could have been hours or days. It all depended on how fast they noticed he was gone and how fast Tony Figured out he'd be in the forest, which being Tony wouldn't be a long time, but people made mistakes. Also, nakedness.

He unfastened the chains which fell to the ground, bloody, with a clunk. His wrists were rubbed raw from where the chains had locked around them and stuck like hell, but the pain paled in comparison to other areas. It was only one wound of many far more serious ones littering his body like a map, of which was covered with red rivers and purple and blue mountain ranges.

He hoped he wouldn't be left with too many scars. His medical knowledge from private tutor sessions with Poppy told him otherwise.

He decided he should probably clean himself up before getting dressed seeing as people would talk if he returned in blood soaked robes, even if he wasn't normally noticed. Blood tended to attract attention amongst the student body and rumors spread like wildfire in Hogwarts; secrets were never secret for long. So returning as he was ended up as being completely out of the question. Even the bandages would still lead to suspicion. He just hoped he could hide them.

He used his wand to clean the cuts as best he could and reduce some of the bruising as much as possible, but he couldn't fix it all. Tightly he wrapped himself up in the thick white bandages he'd stolen from the hospital wing and only winced slightly at the pain. Most of the raps were quite simple and easy to apply, but self-bandaging became extremely difficult when it came to his back. In the end he wound up fixing tap to the corners of the compress, placing it on the floor, and lying down onto it to fix it on. He even had to stitch his shoulder.

It all seemed far more difficult than it should have; he'd read that he'd be tired and weary for a few days after the final change and all through the three days he was forced to endure the change, so he didn't worry too much about the soreness in his muscles, but more about how long his wounds would take to heal. He couldn't really ask Madam Pomfrey for help. When would she have ever dealt with a situation like this? She would probably be obligated to report it.

He started worrying about his school work, but that faded just as fast as the hair concerns.

He pulled on his trousers and clumsily buttoned his shirt with stiff blue fingers, praying that none of his friends would ask too many questions about the bandages, but he had a strong theory it was a pointless, if not hopeless wish. Natasha and Clint would possibly let it lie, but the others would ask in a second.

Tony probably less.

Not that he was planning on talking to them any time soon. He cared about his friends more than anything and he didn't want to put them in any danger, but he knew they'd pry.

When Tash stopped talking to them all for a week a few months back he'd seem some of the world most crazy schemes put into place to get her to talk. In the end they found out she'd just being seeing how long Clint could go without her before he started crying. Which it was later discovered was not very long. Bruce hadn't seen the actual event but, Tony said it was rather a wonderful sight to behold.

The point was they always had to find out what was wrong. Once you were in the group, you were in. No way out except death. Bruce wondered how they take in when they realized he was out for good?

But until then he'd have to keep hiding his injuries. He guessed he'd be wearing a cloak for a few weeks, no matter the weather. Tony always had on at least a jumper even in the deepest summer, so it couldn't be too hot. Then again maybe he'd enchanted his clothes to regulate temperature.

Gathering his remaining stuff all back into his bag, Bruce kicked a few leaves over the chains to high them a bit. He was pretty deep in the forest after all so they should have been too easy to find, but you never know.

As he set off back for the castle he realized he should probably stop crying before someone saw him.

Xxx

Steve was in a rush. A real, urgent, heat of the moment, super important screw all other priorities rush. If he didn't get to the seventh floor corridor in the north turret of the castle in the next five minutes, he wouldn't get there in time to stop the Weasley twins from turning all the teachers' hats blue. The situation was truly dire.

Though Tony would argue the situation to be more hilarious than harmful, as Tony would argue with most situations it would seem, it was still a bad thing to do. Steve was completely sure that turning teachers' hats blue was against school rules; the rules generally covered those sorts of obscure things. Apparently this was because a group of allusive pranksters a while back had made them all necessary, even the one about not using cabbages to block doorways.

He also knew the twins were getting worryingly close to their final warning. A final warning that would leave them wand less for at least a month. And that meant that not only would they be defenseless in a stick situation but also they might fall behind on their grades. So he had to stop them. Because he was Steve.

Turning a corner quickly and without looking, Steve immediately collided head on with a smaller Ravenclaw boy who had been shuffling along the hall alone, sending them both crashing to the floor with a rather unpleasant thump.

Quickly recovering, Steve jumped to his feet. He outstretched his arm to help the boy up and apologize deeply before shooting off again to carry out his mission, when he noticed something. It was Bruce.

"Bruce, I'm so sorry. Here, let me help you," Steve said crouching down to pull him up and frowning slightly at the shrubbery that was Bruce's hair.

That's when he heard the gasping. Bruce's mouth was open and his eyes screwed shut, almost as though he was in agony. Which couldn't have been caused by Steve. He'd seen Bruce thrown much further by far heavier forces during many of his and Tony's potions gone wrong, and hurt far less. But his chest was heaving and his fingers clenching and Bruce Banner was definitely not okay.

"Bruce? What wrong?" Steve asked gently pulling him up to his unsteady feet. He was going to move his arm away but Bruce clung to it like life support as he gathered himself together again.

"No-nothing… Steve… I'm… I'm fine."

"And a terrible liar."

"Really… I'm fine," Bruce repeated coming to himself again. "Weren't you in a hurry or something?"

As Steve let go of Bruce's arm, to other boy's sleeve rolled up just a little.

"Is that a bandage?"

"I really have to go," Bruce said quickly and hurried past Steve with a visible limp.

"But…"

"I've just… I've got an appointment."

Watching one of his best friends limp away from him, Steve suddenly started feeling something he'd never really felt before. Irrational.

Completely forgetting where he was going, Steve went straight to Tony's room. No one messed with Steve's friend's.

Xxx

"What's the plan?" Steve demanded storming into Tony's room, causing him to look up from the book he'd been banging his head against repeatedly. There was a visible dent in the hard back cover that was worryingly deep.

"I thought going into the forest was stupid plan and I was going to get myself killed," Tony deadpanned trying to spot if Steve was actually serious or not. "Which it is and I will, but that's so not the point."

"That was before I saw Bruce in the hallway looking pretty bad."

This spiked Tony's attention like a shark to blood.

"Bad, what do you mean bad? Please be exact because I've had a lot to be stressed about lately and I want to know I'm panicking to the correct level here," Tony said rising quickly from his chair and losing all knowledge of personal space.

"He was in pain. I mean a lot of pain. And I saw bandages on his wrists, there might have been more that I couldn't see."

"Well, that's good," Tony said off handedly, turning away.

"What do you mean that's good?" Steve asked sharply at the suddenly casual Tony.

The tension in the room sky rocketed however when Tony turned back, his wand grasped tight. His knuckles turning white from the grip.

"Because nothing in the world could stop me killing this thing now."

The rage in Tony's eyes was just a little bit terrifying.

Okay, maybe a tad more than a little bit.

Xxx

That day passed a lot quicker for the teenaged wizards whose lives had once seemed so care free, than any day before. Bruce had basically fallen asleep the moment he gotten back to his dormitory, collapsing into his pillows and falling unconscious within the second. Steve had zoned out for the whole afternoon working on a punching bag Tony'd conjured for him; he was looking less like a stick man every day. Tasha and Clint had spent the day running around steeling ingredients from around the school, while leaving little traps for the teachers. Thor had also been filled in on the plan, so had been working on his lightning spells ever since. And Tony had been so full of vengeful fire, by the time he'd seen the clock, it was time to spell up and head out.

So there the five of them stood. Five minutes from midnight, under the bright full moon, so spelled up the air around them practically crackled. It was a hell of a rush, but none of them cast a single thought it's way.

Clint clutched his ready loaded bow tightly in his grip, his mind focused intently on the darkness that was never quite as dark for him as the others. His breath shallow and controlled. Only jittering slightly when Tasha's hand squeezed quickly, once, over his, before darting away as though nothing had happened.

Tasha herself had her broom strapped tightly onto her back and her wand raised ready in hand. Fighting stance was now her base position and the rest of the group knew not to get too close in fear of natural reactions that would leave them missing limbs.

Thor stood tall, wand at his side, with electricity cracking around it sharply. His eyes were dark; ready for battle. Though, while he looked impenetrable, he was stood a little closer to Steve than was completely necessary.

Steve couldn't be said to be moving away from Thor, even if he didn't exactly look his way. Instead he took a deep breath and looked into the woods ahead with determination. Though the others in normal circumstances would have mocked, not one of them mentioned the shield made entirely from magic he held in his hands. Though the outline of it glimmered blue and an inner circle red, the rest was completely translucent. Raising it slightly, he looked to Tony, his eyes silently thanking his for making the thing in the first place.

"Right, everyone ready and not wetting themselves?" he asked the group, his cloak billowing behind him in the wind.

"Pretty much," Tash nodded.

"My bladder has been emptied in preparation for this night. There shall be no trouser wetting from me."

"Maybe that wasn't the best plan. My bet is your piss stream could wash away Kingsley Shacklebolt."

They were all so tense they didn't even glare at Tony.

"So the plan?"

"Simple Steve. Wander about aimlessly until we find something."

"Tony, don't you think we should at least…"

"Split up? Good plan. Cover more ground."

"I was going to say…"

"You and Thor can pair up as team 'the one that isn't brains,' and Tash and Clint can be 'holy fuck, how long have you been standing behind me' or 'unresolved sexual tension.' They can pick."

Clint aimed his bow at Tony, but Steve glared him down. Tasha still managed to zap him quickly though.

"And what exactly are you gonna be Stark? Team 'get yourself killed'?"

"I was thinking team 'better at magic than all of you', or team 'hansom and dashing,' but that works to."

Tony looked around at his friends. He looked at Tasha's annoyance, Clint's silent vow of later revenge for all comments, Steve's disapproval and Thor's battle ready features. Yet, though everything that was happening, all he could think about was that Bruce wasn't there to be giving him a look saying 'really Tony? Really?' while silently sniggering in his head at the charming antics. And that made Tony very sure that he was ready for whatever he was about to face.

"Team 'sexual tension' take the right, team 'beefcake' the middle, and I'll take the left. Any one finds anything or gets in trouble they send up sparks. We meet up again in half an hour with our finding at the big burnt tree. Let's move out."

As Tony stormed forwards through the trees, it was they least you could say that Steve and the others stared after in shock.

Had Tony just made a plan more coherent than 'attack'?

Xxx

Midnight.

"So what's you bet?"

"Depends. What are the choices?"

"Finding nothing. Finding useless crap. Actually achieving anything. Dyeing. Having Tony video us wandering aimlessly and show everyone he meets for the next four years."

Tasha pondered the options as she moved through the trees, her wand light dim as to not attract any unwanted attention. She wasn't fond of unwanted attention.

"My bet's Tony and Steve die, Thor loses a limb, and I tragically punch you after you make a pass at me."

Clint tilted his head slightly in agreement. Sounded like a reasonable bet, but Clint figured Tony wouldn't die so much as get mutilated beyond repair and spend the rest of life complaining that he was now only the sexiest man alive by a small fraction rather than miles. Clint wasn't looking forward to that future.

The heavy musky air hung around the groups as they scoured the trees, the dirt and the skies, for any clue or trace that would explain what was going on with Bruce. Each had been given a rather extensive list by Tony detailing the twenty most likely causes of Bruce's isolation, but looking at the list was the last thing they were all doing.

Mud crept up their robes as they crept through the labyrinth of brittle branches and leaves; careful not to make a sound or sight that would attract attention from any creature or spy that may be lurking just out of sight. They each figured they'd find the culprit in the same way Bruce had, stumble upon it by chance. But hopefully they'd be able to alert the others before they got eaten or poisoned or killed.

The lions moved side by side, overturning logs as they passed. Their step in sync with the other's, breathing not far behind, eyes darting in union; together they searched.

Tasha and Clint moved back to back, feet moving in line with each other's in an unspoken dance and rhythm that came to them effortlessly. They were one as they prowled through the night in complete deafening silence. Gentle nudges to the other their only communication that they inexplicably understood. The secret impossible language of the Slytherin and the Hufflepuff.

Tony trudged purposefully and alone through the thick brambles that tried to wrench him back, braking the most incontinent ones with silent charms from his wand. His head down as he stalked through the night.

And they continued like that for almost half an hour without a single semblance of success.

Xxx

It hadn't been easy; pulling himself from his bed when the panting of a kid called Alex's mum started shouting at his from the corner. Her voice deep and croaky as it yelled profanities at the boy. The bed was just so comfy and moving was just so painful and he was so so tired. But the painting, despite ever groan and wave of the hand, would not shut up.

"Banner, get out of bed. You told me exactly when to wake you up and I'm doing just that, but you are not doing what I ask. I'm not feeling that this is a very even relationship if you ask me, what with me doing what you ask and you just ignoring me. Just like my husband, bastard. Are you a bastard, Bruce? Get up. If you don't get up I'm going to start calling you Beauty. You know, like sleeping Beauty."

Pulling himself up he looked at the portrait with groggy eyes and still twig infested hair. It was a good thing Snape had actually had some of the proper potion in his secret supplies, otherwise the rest of the dorm might have had something to say about a shouting painting at half eleven at night, on a school night at that. But luckily they were all drugged and out cold for the night.

"Her names not Beauty, Maggie, it's Aurora. And don't call me that either."

"Well whatever you're names is, you've got to be getting off if I remember correctly. You were very insistent on how important it was that you left as soon as I woke you up, which took far too long you lazy arse."

Maggie tutted and shook her head as Bruce just smiled sort of sadly and grabbed his bag. Another night. Another night and then another after that, and school in-between. It seemed like torture, but he would persevere.

Maggie's red cheeks puffed out in outrage as he turned to leave without another word.

"No goodbye, beauty? I was under the impression that you were a more polite boy," she grumbled as her sausage curls of brown hair bounced around her plump face.

"I don't really know what kind of boy I am. Goodbye, Maggie."

The teen ducked his head awkwardly as he tropes out of the dorm, his shoulders slouched. His bag hung over both his shoulders and eyes drooping down with fear at the pain ahead.

He didn't think to take a glance at his map before leaving, but if he had he would have notice five footprints all heading out to exactly the wrong place, at exactly the wrong time. It was a shame the he didn't glance, but even if he had, with twenty minutes left to get chained to a tree, what could he have even done.

"You're a boy who needs a good old-fashioned hug I say," Maggie said to herself as the door closed leaving her alone with the sleeping boys. "And to stop drugging my son to sleep."

xxx

Thor looked to Steve.

"How long are we to continue this search for? I haven't heard even the smallest of creatures since we entered this forest. The silence is as ever-present as Tony's snark, I do not like it."

"As long as it takes Thor. Bruce needs help, we help. It's what we do."

"Oh, doubt me not Rogers. We will help our friend, but I'm serious about this silence. Have you seen so much as a squirrel, a rat, a roach?"

Steve looked around the silent forest with a frown. "I don't know, doesn't seem like it."

Thor pushed a rock out of its place, staring down at the bug free earth by wand light. "We are alone here. Just like Banner was."

His tone was solemn in a way it rarely was with Thor, but when it was, everyone knew the situation was dire. He might not have been great at class, but his intuition was insanely accurate. Sometimes even scarily so.

The cold air chose that moment to take a particular interest in biting at Steve's toes and a shiver ran the length of his spine, leaving a rather unpleasant feeling in his neck. The trees groaned in the wind as they loomed above him.

"Not for long, we've got to head back to the tree. It's nearly been half an hour; we'll talk to Tony about it then."

With that the pair turned tail and started heading back to the tree, but were stopped dead in their tracks.

The howl echoed through the forest like smoke.

Xxx

Tony's heart was sinking with each passing minute, but his perseverance was strong as ever. It was only a few minutes till he needed to head back to the tree to regroup and he'd found nothing. Not a hallucinogenic fungous to a three-headed bagnasnatch. Just dirt and trees and way too much blackthorn earth root.

Tony really hated blackthorn earth root.

He decided after tonight he'd invent a spell to destroy all blackthorn earth root of the face of the planet.

He was minutes from turning away and heading back to the tree when he walked straight into Tasha and Clint, like a brick wall of teen angst.

"How did you not move out of the way? You manage to scare the shit out of me by silently popping up at every opportunity, but you can't see me coming? How the fuck does-"

"Shut up Tony."

Natasha voice was deadly still and deathly quiet. She wasn't looking at Tony as she spoke the near silent words and neither was Clint, but he suddenly felt like hundreds of eyes were on him. They were both facing away, eyes down and stiff as boards.

"What is it?" Tony asked from behind the two, who didn't move so much as an inch. "What the hell are you two staring at?"

Clint took one step to the side without as much as ruffling a leaf beneath his feet.

Stepping forward Tony looked down and froze. His lungs constricted and his arm shook and only one word escaped his mouth.

"No."

Bruce's watch, that he'd never taken off since Tony had met him, was just lying there on the floor. Leaves covered the strap and only the thinnest slip of moonlight through the trees made it even remotely visible.

And it was covered in blood.


	7. Chapter 7

Stumbling through the forest, minutes before the change, Bruce wondered if maybe he should have woken up sooner. At the time it had seemed like eleven thirty would be a fine time to wake up. He'd have half an hour to rush out of the castle, into the forest and lock the chain, with time to spare. It had only taken Bruce ten minutes to get out there the night before after all, what with it being a short distance away, him being a fast walker, and there being no one in his way to stop him with the tunnels he knew, which Tony had put the force-fields on years ago. Force-field's that meant he wasn't dead, only changed.

Bruce wasn't sure if he preferred it this way or not.

He hadn't counted on himself finding it so difficult to get out of bed, or the pain in his legs and back being just as strong as the night before. Nor had he thought about how out of it he'd be trying to pull his beaten body through the woods.

Considering what a cautious person Bruce was when it came to matters of protecting other people, he hadn't really thought about the possibility that he wouldn't get there in time.

The moon was rising higher above him by the moment, and he could feel it. It pulled at his skin in a way that made Bruce feel wrong. He felt like his body was incorrect in the same sort of way that an answer to a question was when the wrong factors had been put in. He had to move faster.

Two minutes to go he thought, looking down to his wrist. His watch fastened on as always.

He'd have to take it of quickly before he locked the chain, but it was looking like he wasn't going to have time to undress. How he'd get back into the castle naked he didn't know. Maybe some of his clothes would survive the night, but it seemed unlikely.

Maybe he could ask Tony for help. All he had to do was send a note to his room and the guy would be there in minutes with his most expensive robes. He'd play it cool of course, saying he was already up and bored out of his mind anyway. He wouldn't admit that he cared; Tony never admitted he cared, but he did.

But so did Bruce, and he wasn't going to put his friends in danger. He wasn't going to be selfish and pull Tony into this, because then he'd end up doing something dumb and getting hurt. Or he do something smart and get Bruce hurt.

Werewolves weren't exactly considered people in the wizarding community after all, and Tony was a Slytherin pure blood from the most prestigious family in the wizarding world. All factors that meant there was a good change he'd just hand Bruce to Dumbledore without a second thought. Or hate him. Or both.

He was starting to panic; there was only one minute to go. If he didn't get to the tree in time, if he didn't get the chain on, he didn't want to think of what could happen. But he could see the tree.

Breaking into an agonizing jog, he tried to beat the moon, pulling at his watch strap as he went. It was tighter than he thought and as he tugged repeatedly at the material he growled at his lack of success. He must have put it back on a setting tighter than he normally did. It wasn't coming off.

Thirty seconds.

Bruce grappled with the strap for another few seconds after reaching the tree. He leant against the trunk slightly, breathing hard as he tugged fruitlessly at the priceless artifact. But like a tug of war with Tony over a book, he was destined to lose.

The more he pulled the tighter the strap dug into his raw wrist, causing the smallest trickle of blood to run over the leather. It hurt but he hardly noticed.

Ten.

Giving in, Bruce flung his bag as far away from himself as possible. It crashed against a tree with a thunk in the silence. It seemed an alien sound to hear. All sounds seemed alien for some reason as his hearing started to change. His breathing was louder in his ears and his heat beat sounded as though it would be audible from at least twenty feet.

There wasn't a moth or monster around other than Bruce it seemed. Everything had already fled the scene.

Eight.

He grabbed the chain and clumsily hooked it round the wrist opposite to his watch. His heart rate finally slowing as he looked at the metal incased around his wrist. He would be safe for tonight. Everyone would be safe for tonight. It was gonna be ok and all that panicking had just been a waste of energy and breath. Tony could sleep without a hint of danger, and Thor and Tasha and Steve and Clint. They were fine. They'd be fine.

Who was he kidding, no they wouldn't be.

He reached for the chain around his neck to lock the shackle into place.

Four.

It wasn't there.

Three.

It was in the bag. He'd left it in the bag.

Two.

Launching himself towards the tree across from himself and hands desperately scrambling for the zip he prayed his old watch was fast.

His magic old watch.

That was never fast.

One.

He pulled the zip open and plunged his hand into the bag but found something rather inconvenient.

That's the way things always seemed to be when you needed something. Just all round inconvenient in the end. You can see something right there and all you have to do is take it, but then fate steps in. It steals the girl or gives the job to someone else. It lets you look right at what you need, so it's mere centimetres from the end of your nose, and then stops you taking it.

Fate was, in all senses of the word, a bit of a bitch.

In this case the thing only centimetres away was a shimmering gold key, and the reason he couldn't just grab it was that claws didn't have opposable thumbs.

Xxx

He wanted to be angry. He wanted to be furious in fact, screw angry. Angry was a tame little emotion played with by children when they were bored and didn't get their way. It belonged in toy shops and tantrums in front of the telly. It was not nearly worthy of being felt at that very emotion heavy moment.

He wanted to feel pure unadulterated rage. The kind that kept you up at night with tense muscles and red eyes and the need to just destroy everything that got in your way. The kind only contemplated by the most scorned and least noticed.

The kind felt by super villains and anti-heroes.

He wanted to feel that.

But instead Tony just felt scared.

He was a sixteen year old kid in an extremely dangerous forest in the dead of night, albeit heavily protected by the best magic a wizard could possibly cast and two extremely capable fighters, looking at the bloodied watch of his closest friend who was nowhere in sight. A friend who'd been distancing himself from Tony for a month and a friend Tony really really liked.

He really wished he was angry.

He could do angry.

At least he wasn't the only one who was scared though. But whether or not that was a good thing was rather debatable. Having two of the best fighters in the wizarding world beside him right now could have been really useful. But he didn't.

They were just three scared teenagers in a forest.

"What do we do?" Tasha asked looking to Tony. It seemed his little speech at the start of the night had assigned him as the leader. Wonderful.

"I… I don't know. Run, die, climb a tree and hope it can't climb one too. Maybe for once in our sorry god damn lives the world will choose now to take pity on us and not kill us in the most gruesome way imaginable."

Tony ran his hand through his hair as he turned to walk into the forest.

"Shouldn't we go find Steve and Thor," she asked picking up the watch and turning it in her palm. She hardly noticed the blood oozing onto her fingers.

"Really? I thought we should go have a picnic with Harry Potter. Thanks Tash, but I thought captain obvious was with Shakespeare at the moment."

"Tony?"

He ignored the red head and just walked ahead blasting branches out of the way, no longer concerning himself with noise control and instead making a truly god awful racket. The watch had probably been there since last month. Something had freaked Bruce out so much he'd just left his watch there, in the middle of nowhere. They were likely fucked.

"We continue with the plan. We meet at the tree, we swap horror stories, and we move out again. This time as a group. We can be team 'we're not leaving till we kill this ass hole or die horribly and screaming trying.' Sounds like a great idea."

Tony pushed ahead and just as Natasha was about to follow after, Clint stopped her.

"Tash, look at your hand," the archer commented as he stared down at the watch with his usual blank face. Except it looked just that little bit quizzical.

Looking down, Tasha's eyes scanned over the watch. The glass was slightly scratched and chipped in the top left corner and the strap was hardly holding itself together due to several deep gouges into the leather. It was still ticking away quietly even though some of the blood had seeped behind the clock face and was coating the second and most of the minute hand in deep red liquid. Fresh liquid.

"It's fresh," she said in shook looking up to Clint, her spare hand suddenly pulling her wand back into her grasp as tighter than ever before.

Whatever was out there, whatever hurt Bruce was still out there. It was out there with them that very night and there was no way to deny it. It was probably even close to them. All that noise Tony was making meant it was probably heading their way right that very moment.

But more importantly, Bruce was out there to.

"Are you coming or not? Because I'd like to at least know I'm dying next to friends. Also you two are the most likely to survive so you need to tell people I went down a hero. I'm willing to leave my estate to you if you actually tell people that," Tony shouted from up ahead but stopped when he turned to see Tasha with her finger pressed firmly against her mouth.

The two had gone back into stealth mode and their overt quietness and lack of movement unsettled Tony possibly more than anything else had that night. Other than the watch of course. It was one thing to be alone in the forest, but it was another thing entirely to know you where the loudest group member in the forest. It was like having a sign saying 'eat me' stapled to your arse.

As quietly as he could Tony made his way back to his friends, only breaking twenty or so sticks beneath him over the thirteen steps. Clint made a show of rolling his eyes at the supreme lack of stealth but didn't say a word of criticism. He'd save that for later. If there was a later.

When Tony was no more than four steps from Natasha she tossed the watch his way, carful to make sure it was a catch he couldn't miss. He still nearly did but that wasn't something to be mentioned at that moment. Clasping the cold metal and feeling slightly unsettled by his friend's blood on his hands he shot a look to the others.

"It's fresh."

"What?"

"The blood Tony. It's fresh," Tasha whispered as she looked around the area. Her shoulders pressed back and wand at the ready.

It took a moment longer to hit Tony than the others, medicine not being one of his primary fields of expertize. But it did hit him. It hit him hard.

"He's here!" Tony said louder than any noise Tasha and Clint had made since the start of the night put together. Which lead to Natasha being by him in a second with her hand practically stuffed in his mouth. Only choking him slightly. He could feel her chest moving slightly against his back, but her breath was non-existent.

In other circumstances Clint would have been jealous. In other circumstances both Tony and Tasha would have been making a noticeable and purposeful effort to make Clint jealous just to screw with the guy. They had a habit of doing that. These weren't those circumstances.

"Yes," she voiced in a way that if she'd been half a centimeter further away Tony wouldn't have heard. "And so is the thing that's hurting him. So shut it Stark, we're on a mission."

There was now actual proof they weren't alone out there, but that no longer mattered to Tony. He didn't care that there was something out there hunting them. He wasn't angry, or scared. Because Bruce was probably in a lot more trouble than them, especially if his watch was off and he wasn't looking for it, and he was bleeding. Tony wasn't scared. Screw scared. He was determined.

"Do I get to screw Bruce at the end of it?"

"I'm not sure Banner's really one for being the damsel in distress," Clint whispered pulling back his bow as he joined the others.

"Is Bruce even into you?" Natasha noted, her brow quirked as she mounted her broom.

"Everyone's into me," Tony scoffed, rolling back his shoulders. "Even Clint's into me, aren't you sexy?"

"I do love his hair, but I'm really just in for the money."

"Whore."

"Jack-ass."

Setting off for the tree to meet the others, Tony took the center as the others covered him. Each had their weapons of choice clasped in their hands, and each looked in a different direction. Bruce set in their minds like stone.

The leaves covered the moon above them as they walked.

Xxx

"What was that?"

"Rodgers, you know well that my work in defense against the dark arts pails against yours. Do not ask me questions to which you know I cannot reply with any semblance of knowledge or intellect."

"You got two grades lower than me, and I only passed. That's not the most ground breaking difference. I know squat and you know a bit less than squat."

"It sounded hurt."

"It sounded hungry."

The way to the burnt tree was the exact opposite way to the one they were travelling in, but that was mostly due to the fact that the noise had come from the opposite way to the tree and they had to cut it off before it got to the others. There were two of them and a hell of a shield and one powerful lighting spell to aid them against one monster. They could take it.

Tony was likely to be late to their meeting anyway which meant he was probably still alone, which then also meant he was the one most likely to get killed if they didn't do something about this thing first.

"Has Tony got anything on the sheet under scary growling?"

"I cannot read his disheveled handwriting and I'd say now is far from the time to try."

"Yeah, that kid really needs some lessons in penmanship."

"My brother has better had writing, and he also is incapable of saying the word abundant. Stark needs more than lessons."

They were speeding up with every passing moment, the night air biting at their exposed cheeks. Hearts speeding up as they stormed through the night. The light of Steve's shield and the electric sparks cracking around Thor's wand lit the way as they showed no signs of slowing.

"Have you read the list of beasts and harmful foliage he compiled?"

"No, I can't understand half the stuff Stark writes. What the hell is a," Steve pulled out the list for a moment, "grey Mackblosh?"

"I believe it's a kind of hallucinogenic mushroom used in potions of desire."

"You used one on Jane Foster in third year didn't you?"

"No, I only made an attempt. Which is not even a scratch on the surface to being as villainous as if I'd reach any sort of success."

"She saw right through it, didn't she?"

"You are not wrong."

The sound came again and they both froze in their tracks. The noise of the beast was no longer ahead of the prepared duo, but back towards the tree they were now ten minutes run away from. Back towards Tony and Clint and Natasha. It sounded hungrier than before.

"You heard that to right?"

"Run."

Thor pelted into the night, with Steve only seconds behind.

Xxx

"Where are they?" Tash hissed to Clint as Tony attempted to scramble up a tree for a better view of the area. Most monsters didn't show up on the map, only people, and from ground level in the forest you could hardly see three feet ahead under the dense leaves above.

"I don't know, you'd think the wonder twins would have been the first back. Especially Steve. With spare pencils."

As Tony's foot slipped from the third branch for the third time he looked over to Clint like a bird eating dirt next to an fruit tree.

"Why did I even bother making the maps, do any of you even use them?" he snarked, his hand slipping from the fourth branch for the sixth time and leaving a rather shallow but irritating cut.

In the next four seconds Clint had passed Tony and was perched at the top of the tree and barely even visible from the billionaires vantage point. Tasha had taken that time to soar above the leaves and had a better view than both the boys combined. Neither of them having heard a word Tony'd said.

"Or you could do that," he mumbled dropping back down to the floor.

Tony's map was, as usual, haphazardly folded and stuffed into the inner pocket of his robe, where it was actually needed. The edges were tattered and the colour paler than it had ever originally been. Even if he used his map more than the other, he still managed to be the one with the largest record of getting caught.

Pulling the parchment out he let his wand hover over the map a second longer than was needed. If he opened that map and Thor and Steve weren't on it, what would that mean? If Bruce wasn't on it? Would he be able to deal with seeing it blank of those names?

Since he'd met each of them he knew they'd be important parts of his life. He was sort of the head of the group in the sense that he'd gotten them all together. Steve might have made most of the plans and kept them out of trouble, but Steve hung out with them because Tony had noticed on the second day that due to the kid's lack of brains, the other Gryffindors had started ignoring him. The guy was just so overly friendly and Snape had docked him fifty house points on the first day, which meant he'd been set on the outside pretty quick.

Tony started talking to him in Broom practice when he'd noticed the other was having trouble. He told him he was forming a little group and Steve was invited to join if he wanted, and that he'd help the kid get on Snape's good side. Steve agreed instantly with a smile and a hand shake which Tony pretended to find as overly friendly and patted the kid on the back.

Thor had been three days after that, and had only partially been invited by Tony. He mentioned to Steve that the kid who talked weird was getting kind of teased by the other kids and later that day all three of them where hanging out in the courtyard. Steve had taken it upon himself to extend the invitation, surprise surprise. But having Thor in the group was a welcome event.

Tash and Tony had made friends on the train into Hogwarts. The conversation going something like this:

"You Tony Stark?"

"Yeah, you want an autograph?"

"No, you're an ass-hat."

"I try."

"Fair enough."

"Wanna sit with me."

"Sure."

Then he'd tried to make a move on her and she punched him in the face. It was strong friendship right from the start, and for a year they'd been as close as two people could be.

And that had been the team, the two Gryffindors and two Slytherins proving Hogwarts wrong. It had been the most unexpected friend ship since Snape and Lily years before, but it was only first year. The student body figured they'd grow up and Tasha and Tony would ditch Steve and Thor, or vice versa, and they'd go their separate ways. No one expected a Hufflepuff to join the following year.

Tony noticed that Tasha kept looking at the kid the moment the sorting hat fell on his head. There was just that something in her eyes that told him that though they'd always be best friends, it wasn't going to be Tony and Tasha anymore. She had her eyes set somewhere new. And though it stung, he was happy for her.

Tony invited Clint to hang with them right after the meal finished. He didn't appear to be having trouble making his own friends, but Tony knew he'd end up joining them eventually. It was a good thing the guy was also hilarious to hang around with and it wasn't long before Tony stopped minding that Tasha spent more time with the archer than with him.

Tony was fine being the only one not paired off.

Until one day when he finally noticed Bruce Banner. He'd heard of the kid plenty, but that had been it. He'd never shared a class with him, or really seen him around the great hall. He'd never attracted enough attention to himself that Tony'd stopped and noticed that Bruce Banner was just the guy Tony had been absently searching for all those years. That quite little Ravenclaw with the floppy brown hair would be the best friend he'd needed. He had the smarts and the wit to keep up with the billionaire, and was the outcast Ravenclaw that the group was missing.

Tony scoped him up in the first class of that year and it wasn't long before the two were inseparable.

Tony had put together his friends, he'd chosen them wisely. He'd become so accustomed to waking up each morning and wondering what they'd all do that day, what potions they'd make or havoc they'd reek. He couldn't imagine looking down at his map and seeing one of them not there.

But not knowing was far worse.

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good, but the news you four give me better not be."

"Messr. Wormtail is making no promises," the ink spelled out, before fading away to reveal the locations of every person in Hogwarts school of Which Craft and Wizardry.

The names Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton drifted in a neat group on the parchment by the burnt tree, the ink waving slightly on the page. No surprises. Everything was working.

Steve and Thor were shown to be extremely far off considering they were meant to be back at least ten minutes ago and heading in the wrong direction entirely. How they'd managed that Tony didn't know, but somehow they had.

"Idiots."

Looking between both groups of names Tony let out a relived sigh when he saw that the name Bruce Banner was in fact on the map. He was alive and okay and would still be there when he woke up each morning, but the emotion only held for a moment.

Tony Stark was smart. Something that could have easily been his defining factor if it hadn't been for his insanely large ego, habit for making the front page and flirtatious streak. All factors that took away from his ability to cast complex spells and brew impossible potions in the eyes of society. The point was that the intelligence was there. The intelligence to know that Bruce's name on the map was moving faster than Bruce could. A hell of a lot faster.

First conclusion, Bruce was riding a broom. The name was travelling around that speed and it wasn't exactly a hard artifact to get hold of around these parts. But Bruce couldn't fly to save his life. He didn't have the coordination for such things; he'd just float around for a bit before falling off in the most dramatic way physically possible and breaking something.

Speed spell? Once again it was around the right speed, but the map normally would inform the user of those sorts of spells and enchantments. It was a clever map after all.

He felt like he had all the clues and but they were all the wrong way round, or some of them were in Japanese, or on fire. Bruce's name was now only maybe a minute away from catching up to Tony's so maybe he wouldn't have to figure it out. He could just ask Bruce frankly.

"Bruce, what are you doing parading around the forbidden forest at these ungodly hours of the night, what would your mother say? That's sure to work Stark," Tony said, groaning in defeat.

No he couldn't wait and just ask. He was Tony Stark for crying out loud. Bruce would never let him live it down if he showed up in the most obvious way imaginable and Tony hadn't worked it out. He would be disgraced. He would have shamed the name of Tony Stark.

So he looked at the evidence. All of it.

One month ago Bruce had started acting different after a trip into the dark forest, which included avoiding his friends, keeping secrets and getting really angry when asked what was wrong. He'd been looking in that book, 'Monsters: Mythology and Fact' when Tony'd seen him in the library, and they'd found his watch with fresh blood on it only ten or so minutes ago in the very wood he was in last month. Steve had spotted him walking through the halls at an extremely early hour covered in bandages and hurt, and his grades had fallen substantially.

Maybe Bruce had seen a monster and was out there hunting it? But that didn't explain his speed, which showed him as only thirty seconds away.

He had the facts, what was he missing. Throwing his head back in frustration and cursing at the sky, Tony found himself in an area where the leaves weren't as dense and looked straight at the bright full moon hovering over his head.

"No."


	8. Chapter 8

Possibly the worst part about all this was that Bruce was still in his head while he was the wolf. Well mostly anyway. He pretty much knew what was happening, where he was and who he was, he just couldn't control it. No one was really controlling it. The wolf just seemed to be running on the basic demonic instinct to kill. Or more precisely, if it's human kill it.

Last night this had been a problem when he was the closest thing to human around. Without an actual target or even the freedom to roam, it had led to him tearing himself apart instead. He smelled human at least and as far as the wolf was interested that was enough. He held dim memory of watching as he'd ripped his arms to shreds and dug his teeth into his legs. He'd been there to see it and hadn't been able to do a thing to stop.

It had hurt more than anything imaginable, and it still hurt. As he ran through the forest he felt his cuts reopening and his stitches tearing out. His muscles felt weary and were beginning to cramp under the constant push he was unwillingly forcing himself though, but he ran on. He just kept running on through the pain and the blood and the desperate want to stop.

He wished he was chained up again. At least then he'd only be able to hurt himself more. He could hurt himself all night long and bandage his broken body in the woods and cry about his life. And he'd know no one else was injured. He'd be able to get to sleep that night knowing all of his friends were safe as houses in their beds away from the big bad Bruce. Tonight he wasn't going to have that reassurance.

He knew there was someone out there, he could sense it. There was a reason the wolf was running full pelt through the forest, and it was meat. Food. There were people there somewhere and it was only a matter of time before Bruce reached them.

Bruce hoped beyond hope they got gone before that happened.

He didn't want to think about what was going to happen if they weren't.

Xxx

Bruce was a werewolf.

Tony was starting to hyperventilate.

Bruce had gone out and gotten bitten and was a werewolf.

Really hyperventilate. He couldn't feel his legs.

Bruce who'd made potions with Tony to make Dumbledore's hair turn pink. Bruce who laughed at Tony's stupid jokes and actually enjoyed putting up with his bullshit. Bruce who had shity parents and high grades and needed a haircut.

God, was his blood always this loud in his ears.

Bruce who was only twenty-seven seconds from reaching him, Natasha and Clint. Natasha and Clint who would attack Bruce on sight not knowing any different.

Maybe they should.

"Well tonight's going better than my one date with Pepper Potts at least."

No, know was not the time to think about what it meant that his friend was a werewolf. Now was the time to panic.

No, now was the time to act.

Think later. Panic later. Breath now would also be a good idea.

He'd get right on that.

"Tasha! Get Clint on your broom and fly towards the lagoon!" Tony shouted pulling his wand out and thinking faster than ever before. A near impossible feet that Tony didn't want to think about the problems of right just then. Like how quickly it was going to drain him to think at light speed and how the minute his blood caffeine levels ran out he'd turn into an idiot or die of exhaustion. Part of him wished he'd started this night drunker than he had.

"What? Tony where are you gonna go! We can't leave you alone," Tasha called down, hovering now at Clint's level in the trees.

Tony prayed this would work. Or at the very least just keep him alive for the next ten minutes so he could make a new plan. If he could make it just a little longer he might be able to suss out what the hell was going on right now and maybe even safe a few people in the proses.

"Tash, just go! Steve and Thor are that way, I'm gonna go get Bruce!"

"You know where Bruce is?"

"Yes! Now get them and get out!"

Tony hit his own shoes with a speed charm he'd had pre-prepared from his spell frenzy before they'd set out and ran ahead to cut of Bruce in the eight second left to spare before he reached the others.

You might not have thought it but a person can do an awful lot of thinking in just eight seconds. See the brain runs faster than the mouth, and that's only with the potential currently unlocked. Add a heap tone of pressure, shock and boy genius into the equation and you're looking at something like a slow-mo matrix scene and the speed of a bullets love child.

In the first second Tony heard Tasha take off with Clint, the leaves whispering loudly around them as they sped through and over the forest. They were out of the way and he didn't have to worry about where they fit into this whole picture just yet. He could worry about that later.

In the next second he spotted a half grown werewolf leap into his field of vision ahead. The others really had gotten out of the way in just the nick of time. It was big and snarling and Bruce, but that was a mind explosion for later.

In the third, as he turn on his heel to run to the opposite end of the forest to the one his friends where at, he realized he was now going to have to out run a werewolf with nothing but a speed charm that gave him only just the same speed as the thing at a push and none of the extra fitness.

In the fourth he wondered if he was going to die.

In the fifth he started to actually pick up enough speed to stand a hope, yet even without looking he could tell that Bruce was probably only a few meters behind him by now. Getting closer by the seconds counted on Bruce's bloody watch.

In the sixth he decided his plan sucked.

In the seventh he noticed he was running at full pelt under a speed charm and it was almost a scarily fast speed to be moving at for a lone unfit wizard who lived on junk food and coffee. Or at least it would have been if the concept of moving any slower hadn't been a thousand times worse.

And in the eighth he knew the wolf had passed the point they'd previously been at and Tasha and Clint were safe and he did have the speed to get away. The eighth second was a pretty sweet second to tell the truth. Just a few more minutes and he could stop and come up with phase two.

Tony dreaded every second between him and then.

The wolf howled.

Xxx

Tasha and Clint didn't hear the sounds the wolf made as the wind rushed in their ears like the hurricane it was up there. Tasha was the fastest Seeker Slytherin had seen in years after all, it was to be expected that rides with her could get a little wild.

"Why do you think Stark sent us away?" Clint asked wrapping his arms tighter around the slim waist in front of him. Tasha had soft curves in just the right places which made it hard not to get distracted by them, no matter the location.

"I don't know, but Stark sounded like he had a plan at least. Or he better have. If that ass gets himself killed I'm gonna trash his room without a second thought."

"Can I join; he has some gear I wanna swipe."

"Sure, just as long as I get the dragon."

"I don't know, Jarvis really likes Tony. He might just set fire to you."

"I've always liked danger."

The trees sored below them at break neck speed; a blur just below their field of vision. It had been a while since any of them had done anything even close to this, what with the holidays, worrying about Bruce and classes to keep up on. It felt nice to just be breaking rules again.

"Really though, you got any ideas on what he's up to?"

"No, but I know we're not leaving this forest without him."

"Maybe it's you who has the crush."

"Sure, why not. We can share him."

"Dibs top."

"You wish bird boy."

Xxx

Tony, Bruce dimly thought as his uncontrolled body carried him through the night. Why did it have to be Tony?

Why couldn't some stupid stranger he'd never met stumbling about out here after dark. Some random student or an unfortunate resident of Hogsmead who didn't yet fully understand the dangers of the forest at night. Someone he didn't care about like a bat cared for the night or a fish cared for water. Someone he didn't need to at least know existed, safe, somewhere in the world. Even if that place should be as far from him as possible.

But of course it was Tony. Remember that thing about fate being a bitch? Well it was.

He was the kid who got in trouble and made a scene and always had to pay for it. He was the one who never covered his tracks when he blew up the turkey at the Christmas feast. He was the one who screamed go to his friends with McGonagall just around the corner, then covered himself in the pink foam they'd filled the class room with and held his hands up in surrender while they all escaped scot-free. Of course it was going to be Tony.

And the very reasons it was Tony, were the very reasons Bruce never wanted it to be him.

Which was the only thought Bruce could currently fathom in his half-conscious mind. He didn't currently have the brain power or control to realize the fact Tony would likely either die from this and even if he didn't, he'd almost certainly find out about that it was Bruce who was chasing him. He couldn't get enough control of his own mind to think that even if Tony did escape, he might get bitten. No matter the outcome, Bruce was going to lose him.

He really couldn't fathom that just now.

Xxx

He had to be close, Tony thought bolting through the trees. His feet moving nearly as fast as his clockwork mind.

Twigs whipped at his cloak as he bulleted past but it was yet another item he'd enchanted in advance and was impossible to tear through, keeping him safe on the inside as it billowed behind him. He wished he'd known that spell a year earlier he thought for a moment, but now wasn't the time to dwell on past regrets.

Bruce was hot on his tail when he spotted the shack up ahead. The walls were shabby and near collapse but a few quick spells would give him time to hatch a new plan before the place collapsed and he'd have to set out again. One that would hopefully get him and the others all back into Hogwarts before Bruce took off their heads.

The door nearly came off its hinges as Tony crashed through it, a few splinters digging into his already bleeding hand. They stung but then again so did most of him from the extreme numbing exhaustion. Speed spells weren't the same as fitness spells and while they were good for short bursts, they had a habit of leaving the users immobile.

Tony didn't have time to be immobile.

The shack was small. Probably no bigger than half the size of Myrtle's toilet of doom and not half as pleasant. Also no one was flirting with him here.

The place was near pitch black at this time of night; probably not much lighter in the day but it was at least a useable shack then rather than the black hole of empty despair it currently felt like. The walls were wearing thin, wood chipping off more each day. The floor boards creaked dangerously and the roof looked mere moments from caving in. But it would do.

Collapsing against the far wall and heaving for breath Tony fired seven spells in quick succession aimed to increase the sand castle of a shelter's structural integrity. Along with one more spell to slightly light up his surroundings with a bluish glow. It was eerie and unpleasant but he wasn't going to complain about not liking the colour at a time like this.

It now became apparent the shack was used for storing the Quidditch equipment for the new students who weren't permitted to bring their own. Several tattered brooms were scattered across the floor haphazardly like a bizarre budget obstacle course and a chest of the various balls the game required lay lonely in the far corner gathering dust.

Dust that plumed up when the shack was hit by a near unstoppable force. It swirled in the blue light for a moment before beginning to resettle, but like children in the class room it didn't quite manage before another hit set it off again.

The walls shook violently with each blow, taking a moment to rest and recover before the next. Chips of wood flew Tony's way. With the banging against the door not looking as though it would break through any time soon, Tony decided he finally had time to think.

And panic.

Couldn't forget panicking.

The destructive smashes turned into more of a thundering background pulse, droning in the recesses of the teenagers mind as he finally let himself think about what was happening. Bruce was a werewolf. Bruce was a werewolf and was currently trying to kill him.

Werewolf mythology was Tony's first place to go mentally. What did he already know?

From his father's books:

Werewolves were vicious, deadly and inhuman. They changed between one and three nights a month depending on the breed. They were attracted to the scent of humans and killed humans. They didn't kill animals. They changed for six hours a night.

All cold hard facts. Tony liked facts.

From the tutor he'd had at age six, hired from the ministry's organization:

They were inhuman monsters without souls. They only really killed under the full moon but that was mostly to keep a low profile. They had no sense or right or wrong and should be reported immediately upon discovery or killed if hostile. They were not people.

He'd been brought up being told that what Bruce was now was not himself. He was to be considered dead and this thing he was now his killer, not him at all. He was no longer Tony's friend but his enemy.

He was not Bruce Banner.

Tony all of half a second to realize what utter bullshit he'd been raised on.

Really he took a moment to marvel at the sheer amount of horse shit that was what he'd been told. Tony knew he was gonna have some wizard folklore crap in his head from his pure blood family, it kind of came with the deal. Wizard proper gander pasted down through the ages keeping the kids mindless and their kids mindless in turn. But what he'd been told about werewolves really went above and beyond on the not at all even close to possible meter. It was just startling.

Bruce wasn't acting evil and scheming, he'd been acting scared senseless. Yeah he'd shouted at Tony in the Library, but he'd immediately looked horrified at what he'd done after. He'd run out of the Library in shock. He hadn't placed himself somewhere in the castle strategically; he was out in the wood.

Woods that should have been clear of people.

Tony suddenly felt like a bit of an idiot.

It was a rare occurrence but it happened.

Bruce wasn't a monster. Okay, maybe he was but that didn't make him evil. It made him Bruce with a problem that scared the hell out of him. He was still Bruce.

That's when Tony realized what he'd kept thinking but hadn't yet focused on. It had been right there, tittering of the edge of his train of thought, just out of the main concentration stream, but it was center stage now and about to get hit by the train.

Bruce was scared shitless.

His best friend was a werewolf and he was forcing himself to deal with it alone. He'd dropped in class, he was white as a sheet half the time and the bags under his eyes were maddeningly close to looking like black eyes. He'd spent the last month probably thinking that Tony was gonna believe the nonsense they'd tried to feed him. Maybe even believing it himself.

Tony's chest felt worse than it had ever felt before, which was really saying something. It was like his ribs were closing in on his internal origins as he stared at the door before him. The door creaking under the stress of Bruce repeatedly ramming himself against it.

Bruce was a werewolf.

He had to get out of there, and soon. Knowing Tasha the whole team would be on him and Bruce's trail within the next half an hour and that couldn't happen. If Bruce didn't want Tony to know about this, Tony was sure he didn't want the others to know.

And they couldn't see him without knowing, they could hurt him. They wouldn't know it was Bruce. They wouldn't know to not shoot to kill.

For once in his life, Tony was glad his friends never used the maps. Not that they ever got caught anyway but it was infuriating to know he'd gone through all that trouble to make them and they were hardly touched. But right then, Tony was really glad the things still smelt new. He had to keep Bruce as far away from them as possible.

He looked down to Bruce's watch. One fifty five. He had to form a plan, and fast.

The banging continued, but louder than before. The spells were wearing down.

"Come on Stark, you've got this."

The wood started to snap along the center, seconds from being completely destroyed.

"Well, maybe you don't."

The walls were bending as the panels split.

"For Bruce."

He picked up a rock in the corner of the room and gripped in hard in his hand. The thing felt cool and weighty, but smooth to the touch. He ran his fingers over the surface several times silently begging this would work.

"Show time."

He hurled the rock soaked in the blood from his cut and splintered hand at the window, watching it smash the glass to a million tiny pieces as it flew into the dark. Bruce's attention, as Tony had hoped, was peaked and he sprinted after the sent and away from the shack.

Gripping one of the old brooms, the billionaire mounted up and took one last look for a little while at least at his friend hurtling away from him. Tony was going to make this right. Blasting the door open, he flew through and took to the skies.

Tony would never claim to be particularly broom savvy, but he knew enough to get by. Left, right, up, down. He had the basics covered no sweat. Most of them at least he thought as his speed flickered between far too fast and painfully slow.

Pulling out the map as he clutched the broom as tightly as he could between his thighs, he took note of everyone's locations. As expected the gang was all heading back the way he'd told them not to come, with an annoying amount of speed. But worse than that was that Bruce, clearly no longer being fooled by the rock was heading there way twice as fast.

"Time to play who's dumber, a raging mindless beast or my group of friends?" Tony mused allowed replacing his map. "Why did I even ask that?"

Tony drew his wand and bellowed into the night, "Accio Dragon."

Jarvis really hated it when he did this.

Less than a minute later a very disgruntled dragon, just woken from his nap, flapped his wings in brisk night air. His eyes showed his annoyance at Tony who was not his master but instead an irritating friend who gave him food, as he puffed a plume of smoke into the kids face. Jarvis was not a toy to be summoned when needed, he was a very smart dragon who was very annoyed.

"Jarvis, not the time. I know you're pissed but I need you to go and distract Tasha, Steve and everyone."

Jarvis growled deeply, tilting his head.

"Because Bruce is a werewolf and if they find him they're toast and so's Bruce. Jarvis man, I need you to go pretend to be the big bad, not set fire to the forest if possible and help me and Bruce out here."

Tony wondered how he could ever have doubted his friend as the dragon sored down into the forest without a second puff. He wasn't as fond of Bruce as Tony was but the dragon knew who his friends were and after a rather long day in exams last year Bruce had come over to take care of Jarvis while Tony'd been out cold drooling into a pillow.

"Well that one of my seven million problems taken care of, now let's make that two."

Tony took a nose dive down into the forest, heading straight for Bruce. It was time to be a distraction himself.

Xxx

"You hear that too?" Steve asked coming to a grinding halt and nearly tripping over Thor who'd stopped at the exact same moment.

"That's the call of a broom I believe. I know it well, but who-"

"Natasha!" Steve called into the air as he spotted the seeker flying up ahead. Clint was clinging unnecessarily tightly to her back for someone so comfortable with heights, but no one was surprised. It was Clint after all.

The pair swooped down to ground level and gracefully dismounted the broom side by side, striding towards the others. Their forms where heavy with tension and gloom as Tasha replaced her broom on her back and Clint cracked his knuckles.

Steve knew this couldn't be good.

"Where's Tony? Guys what's happening?" he asked voice was incredibly close to calm considering the situation, but not quite close enough.

"And did you here that beast?" Thor added, taking his place beside Steve.

Tasha frowned, "Beast, what beast?"

"Tony sent us here, he said he was gonna go and find Bruce while we sorted you out."

"But Bruce is in the castle," Steve argued.

"This is true; I had his roommates fill me in on his status before we departed. He was sleeping and had been for many hours."

"Wrong answer ThunderShield, he's here."

Tasha nodded, "we found his watch. The thing was covered in blood, fresh blood."

A bolt of lightning crashed against a tree beside the group, leaving only the charred remains of blackened bark in its place.

"WHAT!"

"Well, now we have two burnt trees. I guess Odinson strikes twice after all," Clint smiled slightly, but it wasn't much. He agreed with the Gryffindor on every level and was right there with him on the emotional front of lets smash trees, but it wasn't quite his style.

"Thor, calm down. Blowing up trees isn't helping anyone."

"Tasha's right buddy. Right now we've just got to find Bruce and Tony and make sure they're okay."

Another horrifying monstrous growl pierced the air. The sound hit them and was gone without a second notice, drifting on the distant wind and coming straight from the direction Tony'd gone to find Banner.

"That wouldn't happen to be the beast you were talking about Thor?" Natasha asked in a higher voice than she'd ever admit to.

"Unfortunately yes."

"Then let's move," Steve commanded, setting forward at a jog. "We've got friends to save."

The others followed without a moment to spare, but found they didn't make it very far. After around ten minutes they were stopped in their tracks. Stopped by lashings of flames shooting up just out of their path.

"Was that?"

"Probably," Steve answered the girl, holding his shield up in defense. "Move forward, stay close together. There's safety in numbers."

"Don't we just make a bigger target?" Clint asked skeptically. Moments later fire shot from an unseen source directly to their right, almost catching Thor's cape

"Split up!"

Tony was right; his friends were the dumber choice of them and a mindless monster. Jarvis easily evaded their advances as he led them back to the castle. This was gonna be so easy.

xxx

The next part of his vital, unfoilable, perfect plan was about to fall into place. Bruce was bonding after Tony on the ground below, dodging trees with unbelievable precision, being lead further and further into the forest. A werewolf was fast, but with each passing second Tony was getting better as speed control on the broom and soon he'd be a hell of a lot faster.

He looked down at Bruce's watch on his own wrist and noted the time. It was two fifteen which meant that there was only three hours and forty five minutes until Bruce changed back to human form. He didn't even need to be held off that long, he just needed to be led far enough away that he couldn't smell his way back to the others.

Looking back across the trees, Tony watched the orange light flickering all around Jarvis and in turn the others, leading them astray and destroying their scent at the same time. A win win situation of which the only drawback as the possibility of the forest catching fire. An unlikely outcome however, after all Jarvis was Tony's dragon and consequently one of the smartest of his species.

Pushing the broom to move faster, he made aim to ditch Bruce around fifty feet ahead. Tony could hardly see the flames or the castle from this point and the wide areas of lavender below the trees out here was sure to be a strong enough smell to fool the werewolf senses. Not to forget that Bruce actually knew how to get back to the castle from this point.

It was bad enough the guy was gonna wake up possibly knowing he'd gone after his best friend, but it would be so much worse if he was lost on top of it. Tony'd have to meet him in the morning he guessed with a change of clothes as he watched the remains of Bruce's cape flitter in the wind behind him.

Pressing forward Tony made another time check. Two twenty five, at least a half hours run back to the others for Bruce at full health, which he was not, and ten minutes broom. He couldn't go straight back though, he'd have to loop around or Bruce would know the direction. Twenty minutes broom ride it was.


End file.
